


11/eleven

by knightspur



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous Relationships, Choking, Dick Feelings To Lovers, Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Sitting, Fraternities & Sororities, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Sex, Pegging, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Trans Male Character, fratboy!Mingyu, trans!Minghao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:04:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 30,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightspur/pseuds/knightspur
Summary: Seungcheol slaps Mingyu on the shoulder and tells him to"make good choices"as he goes by.Whatever that means. Mingyu probably won't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy slightly early birthday to Sandy! I love you, have a whole lot of porn.
> 
> TW for narrative language throughout that may be uncomfortable/dysphoric

As counterintuitive as it may seem, Mingyu didn't join a frat to go to parties or meet girls. Those are the obvious benefits, of course, and it's not like he's _not_ interested in those things, but before all that he was just listening to Wonwoo's stories about charity events and brotherhood and only thinking a little bit about going to parties and meeting girls.

(Wonwoo also mentioned meeting boys at parties, laughing at the blush that worked up the back of Mingyu's neck because he didn't really need his childhood best friend to know that was on his agenda.)

But no matter his intentions, it's the last Friday before classes start and Seungcheol decided to make sure they all came out to get piss drunk and bond before school consumes everyone's schedule. Seungcheol slaps Mingyu on the shoulder and tells him to _"make good choices"_ as he goes by.

Whatever that means. Mingyu probably won't.

He's glad Seungcheol drifts off again before he notices that Mingyu already has what would definitely count as a bad choice on his mind. He's had one eye on Soonyoung all night, or more specifically, he's had one eye on the guy with the skinny legs and little black topknot that Soonyoung has with him. He seems to be keeping mostly to himself except for hanging an arm off Soonyoung's shoulders and laughing at some of the things he says. His smile is the thing that keeps grabbing Mingyu's attention— it's totally at odds with the casually intense expression he has on the rest of the time. Mingyu can't decide if he just has a really bad case of resting bitch face or if he actually hates being here that much.

He's also one of the only people at the party that Mingyu doesn't already know, so even if he wasn't the hottest guy Mingyu has seen since… whenever the last time he hooked up with Dongmin was, he's by far the easiest to hit on.

It isn't that he's very secretive about his sexuality, but it's hard to judge how it'll be received sometimes and it trips up Mingyu's stupid need to be liked by everyone.

Soonyoung's friend catches him staring, tipping one of his eyebrows up curiously. He makes no secret of the fact that he's checking Mingyu out; even across the room, Mingyu can see the quick up-and-down flick of his eyes. His expression after is hard to read but Mingyu doesn't mind that so much, raking his fingers back through his bangs to make sure they're still standing properly away from his forehead.

There's no reason to feel intimidated in approaching him but Mingyu's stomach still twists nervously. He could always slink off and find Wonwoo or Johnny and pretend he isn't still totally scared of talking to boys. He could casually wander into the kitchen, even though his drink is still half-full, and try to hype himself up a little bit more.

He doesn't get a chance, it turns out. The guy says something to Soonyoung before splitting off. Soonyoung turns, shooting Mingyu a grin and a thumbs up behind his friend's back that makes Mingyu blush in spite of himself.

So much for seeming smooth and confident.

"Hi," he says, as soon as the guy is close enough to hear him, clearing his throat.

"Do you need something from me?" The guy says, his voice a little higher than expected, the red slash of his mouth curved down in a scowl. Mingyu wishes the ground would open up and swallow him.

"No," he says, doing his best to smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I just, um…"

He trails off, letting out a nervous laugh and rubbing the back of his neck. "You're one of Soonyoung's friends, right? Are you a dancer too?"

The guy squints at him for a second, his forehead wrinkling like he's not entirely sure what he should make of Mingyu. Mingyu tries to look as non-threatening as he can while still standing almost a head taller, tucking his hand in his back pocket and leaning his head to the side.

"Yeah," the guy says after a moment of sizing Mingyu up, apparently deciding he's worth talking to at least. "You're one of the frat guys."

It's not a question but Mingyu nods, even if the way it's said makes it sound like the guy would like him better if he wasn't. "I'm in Sigma, yeah."

The guy nods, taking a sip of his drink and looking Mingyu over again.

"Mingyu," he says because it seems weird to carry on this conversation without introducing himself properly. "I'm a Sophomore."

The guy actually cracks a smile at that, letting his drink dangle from his fingers. "Really? You seem older than that."

"I'm just tall," Mingyu says, smiling in return. "I get that a lot."

"Minghao," the guy says, seeming just a little bit more relaxed. "We're in the same year."

"Oh, cool," Mingyu says, because he's apparently useless at carrying on a conversation. Minghao manages to be even hotter up close, now that Mingyu is looking. He's wearing a dark sweater with long runs in it that show little flashes of skin, tucked into the front of a tight pair of jeans with rips at the knees. He's wearing boots that look too heavy for the fact that it's still practically summer, and there's a silver earring dangling from one of his ears that keeps brushing over the side of his long neck.

Minghao laughs and Mingyu instantly decides he likes the sound of it. "I guess. It beats being a Freshman."

He wants to ask Minghao to dance but he also doesn't really want to make a fool of himself. He's not a bad dancer, but he's always taller than anyone else and it makes him stand out and he still really, really wants Minghao to think he's cool.

"I haven't seen you at one of these before," Mingyu says instead, gesturing vaguely at the room around him. Minghao seems to get what he means because he shrugs his shoulders and smiles.

"I'm not really big on parties," he says, shaking his head. Some of the strands of his hair have started to work their way free from his tiny ponytail, falling across his forehead. It doesn't seem like he notices them but Mingyu wants to brush them back on top of his head. "Soonie asked me to come so I did."

"I'm glad you came," Mingyu says, wondering if it's too cheesy as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Minghao laughs, his body curling forward slightly, bracing his hand on the wall next to Mingyu.

"You're not very good at flirting, are you?" He asks, but it doesn't sound mean. Just amused and curious. Mingyu giggles, looking down at his shoes for a second.

"I'm a lot better with girls," he says, looking back up and shaking his head. "I'm kinda new to trying it with guys."

Something jumps across Minghao's face, half an expression that's gone before Mingyu can even start making sense of it.

"Am I that bad?" Mingyu asks, chewing the corner of his lip.

"Nah," Minghao says, rubbing at his chin for a moment while he thinks it over. "It's kinda cute. Very sincere."

"I can't tell if you're being nice or not," Mingyu says, still unable to keep himself from laughing.

"It's a good thing," Minghao says, his chin tilted up slightly to look at Mingyu. "Better than being a dick, right?"

“I guess so,” Mingyu says, leaning his shoulder against the wall a little more, tilting his body toward Minghao. Minghao’s smile grows just a little bit, losing some of the sharpness around the edges.

“So tell me,” Minghao says, reaching forward and hooking one finger in one of the loops of Mingyu’s jeans, tugging him in a step closer. “Are you better at dancing than you are at flirting?”

“I’m not sure,” Mingyu says, leaning down so their faces are a little bit closer together. Minghao’s fingers are still hanging off the loop of his jeans and the warm, sticky air presses down on his skin and makes the whole room seem smaller.

“I’ll give it a try, though,” Mingyu says before Minghao has a chance to decide he’s boring and go looking for someone else.

“Good answer,” Minghao says, letting go of Mingyu’s jeans only to grab his wrist instead, tugging him away from his comfortable spot against the wall, abandoning his drink on a table as he goes.

Mingyu catches the quick sight of Wonwoo in the crowd, looking at him with one eyebrow raised and a little smirk on his face but he does his best to ignore it. He’ll let Wonwoo tease him about it later on— there’s no way to get out of it, anyway.

It turns out that Minghao is a much better dancer than him, as expected, but he doesn’t seem bothered by Mingyu’s slightly gawky, overly long limbs or the way he sometimes struggles to keep up with the rhythm.

In contrast, the way Minghao moves is almost fluid. For as slender as he is, Mingyu expected his hips and thighs to feel bonier but when he pulls Mingyu forward and grinds against him it’s the furthest thing from Mingyu’s mind. One of Minghao’s hands creeps down from Mingyu’s hip to slide into his back pocket, squeezing Mingyu’s ass and making sure he can’t pull away.

Minghao keeps him there for three or four songs— until Mingyu starts to lose track, beads of sweat sliding down the back of his neck. Minghao looks much more fresh like he’s the one in a button up and not a sweater in spite of how humid the room is.

“You’re not gonna faint on me, are you?” Minghao asks the slight sarcastic bite still there in his tone. Mingyu is starting to wonder if that’s how he sounds all the time. “I don’t think I could catch you.”

“I’m fine,” Mingyu says, shaking his head quickly. “It’s just… warm in here.”

“Your room is upstairs, isn’t it?” Minghao asks, and Mingyu’s stomach does a flip.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, glad his voice doesn’t shake. It’s not like he’s a 16-year-old at his first dance, but something about Minghao is sharp and intimidating in a way that makes him feel just a little off his feet. Minghao blinks at him once and Mingyu giggles, biting his lip and pulling Minghao along with him up the stairs.

It’s much quieter upstairs, and without the crush of bodies, the air is cooler. It makes Mingyu’s clothes feel a little sticky and he tugs at his shirt, twisting the door to his room open and thanking his lucky stars that Hansol isn’t hanging around and the other bed is empty.

He flips the light on, laughing when Minghao looks around. “Ta-da, I guess.”

“I didn’t think any fratboy had a room this clean,” Minghao says, looking around once more. Mingyu laughs, putting his hands tentatively on Minghao’s hips, pulling him toward his own bed rather than Hansol’s. Minghao goes along easily, twisting them around so Mingyu ends up sitting on the end of the bed when his knees find it. Minghao hovers over him for a second, tilting Mingyu’s chin up with one hand before leaning in to kiss him.

Mingyu hums against Minghao’s lips, shifting back slightly to let Minghao kneel on the bed, his knees pressing down on either side of Mingyu’s hips, making himself comfortable in Mingyu’s lap. He has one hand resting lightly on Minghao’s hip, opening his mouth when Minghao’s tongue slides over the seam of his lips.

Minghao’s fingers dig into his hair, holding him in place and dragging his teeth over Mingyu's lower lip. Mingyu makes a small sound, surprised by the bite, his fingers curling more tightly around Minghao's hip to hold onto him. He's lighter than expected, even though Mingyu can see from his clothes just how skinny he is— it hardly feels like any weight at all is resting on Mingyu's legs. He lets Minghao manoeuvre him to the angles he wants, a shiver creeping down his spine when Minghao sucks on his tongue. He's aggressive but no more so than Mingyu would've guessed from the rest of his attitude.

One of his hands ends up on Minghao's ass, squeezing to pull their hips closer together. The dim thud of the party downstairs continues, rattling the floorboards but failing to cover up Mingyu's little groan when Minghao moves from his mouth to the side of his neck, fingers gripping tight onto his shoulders. He thinks he can feel the way Minghao is grinning just before he bites down on the tendon of Mingyu's neck, dragging his tongue over it.

He squirms his hips a little restlessly under Minghao, his half-hard cock trapped against Minghao's thigh. He probably should have sent Hansol a message to keep out of the room for awhile, but he certainly can't be bothered to dig his phone out of his pocket and do it now. Instead, Mingyu pushes his fingers through Minghao's hair, freeing it from the little tail at the back of his hair and stroking the silky soft strands, pulling Minghao into another kiss.

It registers vaguely in the back of Mingyu's mind that he can hear someone's footsteps coming up the stairs, but the chances it's anyone looking for him, and he's much more focused on following the sharp angle of Minghao's jaw with his mouth, leaving little bites behind that make him gasp—

Hansol opens the door and stops, staring at them for all of thirty seconds before it seems to process exactly what's going on.

"Oh," he says, his face caught between blushing and grinning. "Sorry."

Minghao shoves Mingyu back by the shoulders, his eyebrows vanishing under his thick bangs. For a second, Mingyu isn't sure what he should do. He could tell Hansol to get out and just make it up to him later but before he gets the chance Minghao climbs out of his lap, his boots making a heavy sound as they hit the floor.

He doesn't say anything, just gives Mingyu a backwards glance before he stalks out of the room past Hansol, a little frown on his face. Mingyu groans, falling back against the bed and shutting his eyes, rolling slightly to the side in the hopes it'll make his boner a little less obvious while Hansol is standing right there.

"Sorry," Hansol says again, sounding more like he actually means it this time, swinging the door shut behind him once Minghao goes stomping down the stairs. "I didn't realize you were up here."

"I forgot to text you," Mingyu says, covering his face with his palms, voice muffled.

"He was kinda scary," Hansol says, laughing, the springs of his bed squeaking as he flops down on it. "I didn't realize you were into that."

"I didn't either," Mingyu says, sitting up finally and slumping his shoulders. Unfortunately, it seems he definitely is into that, and it's unlikely that he's going to get another chance with Minghao after embarrassing himself like that.

He didn't even get Minghao's number. Or his last name. Of course.

"If you're going to jerk off you gotta go in the bathroom," Hansol says because the two of them apparently lack any kind of boundaries. "I don't feel like going back downstairs."

"You don't wanna have to help clean up," Mingyu says, shaking his head. Hansol grins, nodding, pulling his laptop on his lap.

"I told Seungcheol I forgot about an assignment," he says, his grin inching a little wider.

"You're terrible," Mingyu says, complaining without any heat behind it. He's probably the only one who _doesn't_ mind cleaning up after parties, just like he's the only one who doesn't mind cooking or scrubbing out the bathroom. Cleaning is relaxing; it helps clear his head and gives him something to focus on other than school.

It'll probably be another hour, at least, before Seungcheol starts winding things down and starts chasing whoever is still awake around to clean the house. The bulk of it will be left for the morning, but it's better to keep anything spilt from getting too sticky or leaving stains.

Mingyu pulls himself off the bed with a sigh, scratching the back of his head. Hansol glances up from his laptop, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Are you gonna see if your goth dude is still here?" He asks, sounding just a little too amused seeing as he was reason Minghao left to begin with.

"I doubt it," Mingyu says, just a little sourly. That doesn't mean, however, that he won't see if he can convince Soonyoung to cough up any more details about his friend.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu doesn't manage to get any more information about Minghao. He doesn't even find Soonyoung at the party again and he gets roped into helping clean.

It doesn't make the night _bad_ exactly, but it doesn't make it a glowing spot in Mingyu's memory.

Still, it's the first days of a new semester and the days are still long and warm and Mingyu does his best not to get hung up on it.

Which is a struggle, seeing as when he walks into his Children's Literature class Minghao is sitting in the third row already, the first book they're supposed to read resting on the table in front of him. The spot next to him is empty and Mingyu comes to a full stop, wondering if it would be weird of him to sit there.

On one hand, Minghao is still hot, this time with his hair down and a sleeveless black shirt on and Mingyu is still dying to know more about him. On the other, their introduction was making out at a party and getting interrupted by Mingyu's roommate, which means that Minghao might not really want to spend a whole semester with Mingyu sitting right next to him.

Before he makes up his mind Minghao glances up from his phone, catches Mingyu staring at him (again) and rolls his eyes. He leans his head toward the empty chair and Mingyu breathes out a sigh of relief that he really hopes Minghao doesn't notice. He sets his bag down to the side before he sits, tapping his fingers nervously on top of the table.

"Hey," Minghao says after a moment, glancing at Mingyu with half a smile on his face.

"Hi," Mingyu says, giggling a little at his own awkwardness. 

"Are you bad at carrying on normal conversations with guys too?" Minghao asks, leaning back in his seat. "Because if you are it's gonna be a long semester."

"No, I'm not," Mingyu says, shaking his head and digging his notebook out of his bag. Even though it's obvious Minghao is going out of his way to tease, Mingyu doesn't really mind it. The smile on his face is easy and friendly; there's less edge to it than before. Mingyu wonders if that's due to the change in setting or if Minghao is actually starting to warm up to him. "I'm sorry about, um, my roommate."

"I figured it'd bother you more than me," Minghao says, shrugging his shoulders. There's a curious lift to his eyebrows but before Mingyu can ask what he means by that, the professor steps up to the front of the room and starts talking about the class.

Mingyu does his best not to lose focus, even though his interest in books about rabbits and old German fairy tales is already pretty low. It's worse with Minghao sitting next to him; the sides of his shirt are cut low enough that Mingyu, if he glances out of the corner of his eyes, can see just a peek of his ribs and whenever he isn't taking notes he fiddles the charm of the long silver necklace he's wearing between his fingers.

By the time the class is over, Mingyu has definitely learned more about the mole on Minghao's side than the syllabus for the class.

"Um," he says when Minghao starts gathering his things to stuff them back into his paint-stained shoulder bag. "Would it be weird for me to ask for your number?"

Minghao pauses at that, his mouth turned slightly down, running his thumb over the edge of the pages of his book. "I dunno. Depends what you want it for."

“Oh, I just,” Mingyu blinks, barking out a little laugh. “I didn’t get it before.”

“I know,” Minghao says, standing up and tossing his bag over his shoulder. He leans his hip against the table, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m wondering if I should give it to you or not.”

“I’m not gonna do anything weird,” Mingyu says, putting on his most charming smile. “You seem kinda cool. I won’t bombard you with drunk texts or anything.”

“Or read whatever I say to your bros as a joke?” Minghao says, tossing in a roll of his eyes. He slips past Mingyu with a little shake of his head. Mingyu blinks twice, tossing his bag over his shoulder and chasing after him before he can second guess himself.

“What’d you mean?” He asks, his long legs making it easy to catch up with Minghao before he reaches the doors, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“No offence, Mingyu,” Minghao says, pulling the door open without looking at him. “But you don’t seem like the type to hang around with trans art students to me.”

It takes a moment for the words to click together in Mingyu’s mind, following Minghao out into the hall even though Minghao shoots him a little glare for it.

“Oh,” he says, biting the corner of his lip. “I didn’t know about that.”

He’s not entirely sure what to make of the information, either. It certainly shines a light on the sharp, defensive way that Minghao seems to carry himself. It certainly doesn’t make Mingyu any less attracted to him. Minghao pauses, a frown still on his face, turning to look Mingyu over.

“I dunno what you’re looking for,” Minghao says, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“Just… to get you to know a little,” Mingyu says, scratching the back of his neck. Or a lot, he refrains from adding.

Minghao narrows his eyes for a second before sighing, some of the tension draining out of his shoulders, digging his phone out of his messy bag. “Fine.”

“Really?” Mingyu says, grinning before he can think to stop himself. There’s a crooked smile on Minghao’s face to match, holding his phone out for Mingyu to punch his number in.

“Sure,” Minghao says, shaking his head when Mingyu takes his phone, careful not to drop it. “I’m pretty sure I could beat your ass if I need to, anyway.”

Something about the way he holds himself makes Mingyu think he’s right about that. He hands Minghao’s phone back, saving his name with a little puppy emoji next to it.

“Um, thanks,” he says, not sure what else to say. Minghao shoves his phone back into the chaotic mess of his bag, flipping it shut once again.

“Sure,” he says, laughing just a little. “Don’t follow me home, okay? I’ll see you around.”

“See you.” Mingyu giggles, tucking his hands in his pockets, glad Minghao starts walking in the other direction than he needs to go in so he doesn’t have to keep following along after him.

**{* * *}**

Minghao asking if he wants to come over and hang out a few days into the semester is a surprise to Mingyu, especially after how reluctant he was to give up his number.

From what little Mingyu has been able to learn about Minghao over the last week or so, the chaos of his shared apartment isn’t exactly a surprise. The entire kitchen is covered in art supplies, with spatters of paint on the beat-up table and a stack of canvases leaning against the wall.

Some part of Mingyu cringes at the sight but he does his best to shove down his urge to clean up, letting Minghao drag him through the small living room and into one of the bedrooms instead.

“Seokmin’s gone all afternoon,” Minghao says, tossing his bag off the bed carelessly. The thud it makes when it hits the floor is loud and Mingyu wonders exactly how much stuff he has in there.

Minghao lays back on the bed and looks up at him, blinking his eyes twice. Mingyu, somehow, still takes an extra thirty seconds to realize what he’s here for.

They wind up stretched on the bed, watching half an hour of a shitty movie, gradually drifting closer until Minghao is tucked under one of his arms, head against Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu is barely even trying to follow the plot, distracted by the warmth of Minghao pressed against him.

It doesn’t take much longer for Mingyu to be flat on the bed with Minghao on top of him, the heat of his mouth tracing down the side of his neck. One of his wrists is pinned under Minghao’s palm, holding him in place, even when he wiggles and tilts his head back to stretch his neck out a little further. Minghao’s teeth scrape over the side of his throat, digging in until Mingyu has to bite back a whine. His other hand is tight around Minghao’s thigh, gripping tighter than he needs to for making sure Minghao doesn’t lose his balance.

“Hey,” Minghao says, his mouth moving against the side of Mingyu’s neck. “You’re not super loud, are you?”

“No,” Mingyu says, his face flushing faintly pink. “Why?”

“Because I have neighbours,” Minghao says, sitting up, the motion grinding his hips slightly against Mingyu’s. Mingyu swallows a little sound at that, arching his back to push his hips up against Minghao’s in return. “And I don’t need them to hear you getting your dick sucked in the middle of the day.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, sitting up on his elbows and stroking his fingers through Minghao’s long hair, wishing his face wasn’t quite as red. Minghao is grinning, shifting to the side so he’s kneeling next to Mingyu’s hips, releasing Mingyu’s wrist and dragging his nails down Mingyu’s chest instead. There’s a spot of purple paint next to his thumb and it makes Mingyu smile a little to himself.

He opens his mouth to say something only to groan softly instead when Minghao’s hand curls around the outline of his hard cock in his jeans, pressing his palm down and letting Mingyu press up into it. He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, biting his lip to keep from making another embarrassing sound. He can feel Minghao staring at him and he forces himself to open his eyes, swallowing hard when he looks up at Minghao.

“Do you want me to…” Mingyu says, squeezing his hand around Minghao’s thigh again. Minghao raises his eyebrow but grins a little more, shaking his head.

“Take your pants off,” Minghao says instead and Mingyu rolls to the side, pulling the button of his jeans open and wiggling his pants off, kicking them off the end of Minghao’s bed. He can hear Minghao’s muffled giggle at his eagerness but it makes him smile rather than feeling silly. Minghao pops open the front of his own jeans with one hand, shoving them off but managing to look far more graceful than Mingyu does, even though his jeans are stuck to his legs like another layer of skin.

When he lays on his back once again, Minghao’s hands come to rest on his hips, sliding down to gently nudge his thighs apart, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

It hasn’t even been that long since Mingyu last got laid, not really, but the sight of Minghao staring at his dick like that still makes him feel a little bit lightheaded. Minghao adjusts his knees on the bed before leaning forward, his mouth on Mingyu’s stomach, teeth dragging over where his stomach is soft in the centre. It makes Mingyu’s skin tingle and he digs his fingers into the sheets under him, doing his best to keep his breathing even and act like he’s not going to freak out at the very concept of having his dick in someone’s mouth.

He’s _not_ , but it is hard to ignore the fact that Minghao is hot and apparently actually interested in him. Minghao seems happy to take his time, using his teeth to drag Mingyu’s boxers out of the way, letting them snap against his thighs. It makes Mingyu jump a little and Minghao looks up with a crooked smile.

The look slides off his face when he drops his eyes down to Mingyu’s cock, opening his mouth to slide his tongue over the tip, dragging it over the slit. Mingyu’s thighs tense, his heels digging into the bed, doing his best to stay still. Minghao’s mouth closes over his cock, his lips soft and slick when they press tight around the shaft. His fingers wrap around the base, loose enough to tease but tight enough to hold Mingyu’s cock where he wants it.

Mingyu whimpers, pushing his palm over his mouth so he doesn’t make too much noise, teeth digging into his hand. Minghao doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does he doesn’t lift his head to say anything about it. Instead, he bobs his head shallowly, hollowing his cheeks and pulling suction along the length. Mingyu bites out another sound, arching his back.

It’s a surprise when Minghao reaches one hand up to grab hold of his wrist, pulling Mingyu’s hand to rest on the back of his head. Mingyu’s fingers dig into his hair out of instinct, twisting tight enough that he’s probably pulling too hard. Minghao doesn’t bat him away or scold him, his fingers squeezing a little tighter around the base of Mingyu’s cock

He lowers his mouth until his lips meet his fingers and Mingyu has to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from pushing his cock into Minghao’s throat without warning. Minghao’s mouth is hot and wet and Mingyu can feel the bare pressure of his throat against the head before he slides back up.

Minghao lifts his eyes up, catching Mingyu’s gaze and teasing the tip of his tongue against the crown of Mingyu’s cock. Mingyu squirms, shifting his hips up, trying to thrust his cock into the addictive heat of Minghao’s mouth. Rather than pin Mingyu’s hips flat to the bed Minghao opens his mouth further, letting Mingyu’s cock push in until his mouth meets his hand again.

“Hey,” Minghao says, lifting his head, the heat of his breath over the slick tip of Mingyu’s cock making him twitch. His fingers are stroking idly over Mingyu’s cock, a little smirk on his face. “Tell me before you come, okay?”

“Sure,” Mingyu says, his voice squeaking out between his fingers. Minghao’s grin stretches just a fraction wider before his lips wrap around Mingyu’s cock again, bobbing his head at a steady, messy pace. It makes toes curl, his back lifting off the bed, his whole body arching forward in a wasted effort to chase the slick pressure of Minghao’s lips. 

He drops his hand away from his face, gripping onto the sheets, his fingers tugging in Minghao’s hair without meaning to. Minghao just hums, his eyes squinting into pleased slits, slowing his pace down again. Mingyu whines out a pathetic little sound, lip caught between his teeth, and it makes Minghao glance up at him.

For a second, Mingyu forgets how badly he wants to rut his cock up into Minghao’s mouth, caught staring at the heavy, intense look on his face, his lips stretched thin around Mingyu’s cock, a delicate line of saliva on one of his cheeks. He pushes his hips up without thinking, still staring. Minghao’s gaze blinks away, a focused furrow between his brows, his cheeks hollowing once again. Mingyu’s leg jerks, trying to strangle off another sound in his throat and only partially succeeding.

“Oh, shit,” he says, leaning his head back and sucking in several shaking breaths. There’s a molten heat turning all his bones white hot and he pulls at Minghao’s hair, hips squirming against the sheets.

Minghao takes the hint, even when Mingyu’s next attempt at saying anything gets lost in a groan when Minghao pulls back, dragging his tongue over the slit, stroking Mingyu’s cock now instead. His fist slides too-easy over the already spit and precome slick skin, making a lewd sound when his fingers tighten further.

Mingyu groans too loud when he comes, staining pearly white streaks over Minghao’s fist and his own stomach. Minghao keeps going until he twitches away, his nerves burning from the stimulation. He drops his head back against the bed, panting, half-expecting Minghao to scold him for making too much noise.

He doesn’t and as soon as Mingyu can properly feel his limbs again he sits up, pushing himself up on his palms, biting down on a little laugh when Minghao wrinkles his nose at his messy hand and wipes on the sheets.

It saves Mingyu from sticking Minghao’s fingers in his mouth to clean them off, though that’s not entirely a benefit in his book. Minghao is still kneeling on the bed, his hair a mess now, lips still swollen and wet. Mingyu leans forward, pulling him into a kiss, his hand around the back of Minghao’s neck.

He hums, almost like he’s surprised, but he goes along with it enthusiastically anyway, sucking Mingyu’s tongue and nipping at his lower lip when Mingyu starts to lean back.

“Lay down,” Mingyu says, a little grin on his face, sliding his hand up the side of Minghao’s thigh.

Minghao looks at him and blinks twice like he doesn’t understand and Mingyu can feel himself blushing. “Unless you, um, don’t want me to…”

After a second, Minghao grins, sliding up the bed to switch spots with Mingyu, one of his eyebrows disappearing under his bangs. “I didn’t really think you’d ask.”

Mingyu’s face flushes more but he giggles, settling himself between Minghao’s bare legs and running his fingers up one of Minghao’s calves, pausing to feel the soft skin at the back of his knee, the pull of his tendons when his leg twitches at the ticklish feeling.

“I really want to,” Mingyu says, maybe a touch too sincerely. There’s certainly no pretending he hasn’t thought about it. He takes his time feeling his way up Minghao’s legs, following his hands with open, damp kisses. He hooks his hands under Minghao’s thighs to spread them apart, a little surprised by all the muscle he can feel bunching and releasing under his palms. Minghao’s whole build seems slender and lithe with the definition in his arms and the peek of his flat stomach that Mingyu can see from where his shirt has ridden up.

He nudges the shirt up a little, planning on putting his mouth on Minghao’s stomach as well but Minghao pushes himself up, reaching down to yank his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side. Mingyu giggles, his hands drifting over Minghao’s sides and settling on his hips to pull him closer. The first thing Mingyu notices is the bright steel rights in both his nipples, followed by the pale pink scars just underneath. He reaches out, rolling thumb over one of Minghao’s nipples, flicking the ring. Minghao hums out a little sound, a crooked smile on his face.

“Did you not notice that before?” He asks, arching his back up, tongue sliding over his lower lip.

“N- no,” Mingyu says, shaking his head and grinning, sliding his hand back down Minghao’s ribs. Mingyu’s fingers dig into his hips a little more tightly, curving his back to press his mouth against Minghao’s stomach, muffling another laugh when Minghao flops onto his back, making the bed groan.

Mingyu nips along the edge of Minghao’s hipbone, sliding his hand from Minghao’s hip and pressing his fingers gently against the small wet spot between his legs. Minghao lets out a small, shaking breath, his legs falling further apart around Mingyu’s shoulders. Mingyu curves his hand, rubbing his fingers in slow circles until Minghao makes a small, bitten off sound. He pushes his hips up into Mingyu’s hand, heels sliding across the sheets to find better purchase.

“My roommate is gonna come home eventually,” Minghao says, his tone lacking any real bite. Mingyu grins, pulling his hand away to pull Minghao’s boxers down around his thighs, letting him slip one leg out of them. He pulls Minghao’s thigh over his shoulder, scraping his teeth across the sensitive skin, sliding his tongue up the sensitive crease of Minghao’s thigh.

He uses his fingers to spread the lips of his cunt open, dragging the tip of his tongue between them, pressing the tip of it against his clit. Minghao jerks slightly, his thighs twitching together. Mingyu tightens his grip around Minghao’s thigh, holding it in place and dragging his tongue in slow strokes, taking his time to explore the damp, silky folds.

Minghao’s fingers dig into his hair, gasping when Mingyu’s tongue teases around his clit, short nails scraping over Mingyu’s scalp. He closes his lips around it, sucking on it. Minghao’s hips squirm and Mingyu does his best to hold him in place, flicking the tip of his tongue just inside Minghao’s hole. He pushes it in further, stretching his jaw open wider to fuck his tongue in and out of Minghao’s pussy, listening to him try to strangle off all the sounds he’s making. 

His thighs squeeze around Mingyu’s head, one hand in his hair and the other stretched over his head, fist clenched around one of the pillows. There’s still a slight rasp attached to the sounds he makes and in spite of the fact that it’s too soon for Mingyu to get hard again his cock twitches against the sheets under him. He tilts his head, massaging his tongue over Minghao’s clit again. One of his hands pulls away from Minghao’s thigh, adjusting so he has enough space to press a finger inside. Minghao groans, the sound not quite muffled by the arm he has over his face, walls squeezing around Mingyu’s finger immediately.

Mingyu curls his finger, dragging the pad of it over Minghao’s walls. He closes his lips around Minghao’s clit again, sucking on it slowly, fucking his finger in and out. Minghao whines, tugging on Mingyu’s hair, one of his legs stretched out over Mingyu’s back. Mingyu can hear his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps and he presses his finger in deeper. Mingyu grins, turning his head to bite at Minghao’s thigh, sinking his teeth in until they leave a mark behind.

“Fuck, would you just…” Minghao huffs, giving Mingyu’s hair an extra tug. Mingyu muffles a giggle against his thigh before dragging his tongue over Minghao’s hole, tracing where it’s stretched around his fingers. Minghao hums, pushing his hips down against Mingyu’s mouth, rolling them unevenly in an attempt to increase the friction. Sliding a second finger in, Mingyu hooks both of them up, grinding against the slightly rough edge of Minghao’s inner wall.

Minghao’s whole body goes tense, stretching out long and tight like a wire getting ready to snap before he comes, his bunt squeezing tight around Mingyu’s fingers, thighs trapping his head there. Mingyu laps over his clit slowly, drawing it out until Minghao’s muscles twitch, sitting up once Minghao’s legs relax, pulling his fingers out. Minghao melts back against the bed, laughing when Mingyu flops over next to him, arms stretched over his head.

Mingyu kinda wants to wrap his arms around Minghao and press their chests together so he can feel the fast pace of Minghao’s breathing slow down to normal, but he’s not sure exactly what Minghao will accept.

Before he gets it in his head to try, Minghao sits up, stretching his back and groaning. “Thanks for that.”

“Um, sure,” Mingyu says, giggling a little. His eyes trace over the curve of Minghao’s spine, his skin tight over each bump of bone. “You should let me cook for you sometime.”

“Cook?” Minghao asks, looking over his shoulder, fingers pushing his bangs back from his face.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, grinning. “I’m really good at it.”

Minghao’s expression hovers for a moment between a smile and a frown like he’s not really sure what to make of the offer.

“I’m not looking to date anybody,” he says, shaking his head. Mingyu blinks then shrugs in return. He hadn’t exactly meant it as a date, but he wouldn’t have said no to one, either.

“That’s cool,” he says, watching Minghao put his shirt back on and sitting up to find his own clothes. “So this was just…”

"No commitments, no labels," Minghao says, a razor-sharp smile on his face. "And don't ask me to meet your friends."

“My friends are nice,” Mingyu says, laughing in spite of himself. It would be silly to feel _hurt_ that Minghao isn’t looking for a relationship; they don’t even really know each other that well, after all.

But casual relationships have never exactly been his strong suit. Still, he grins anyway, pulling his pants back on with a shake of his head.

“You don’t have to meet mine, either,” Minghao says, shrugging one of his shoulders, digging around on his messy nightstand for a hair tie and pulling his hair back from his face, combing his long fingers through it carefully.

“I know your friends already,” Mingyu says, pinching at Minghao’s side just to get him to mess up. A chunk of dark hair slips through his fingers and Mingyu laughs, even when Minghao swats his hand away.

“You know Soonyoung,” Minghao says, shaking his head, twisting the elastic band around his hair several times once he’s gathered it all up again. “Not all of them.”

He could point out that he doesn’t have the same problem with Minghao’s friends that Minghao does with his, but it’s much easier to just let it go.

Minghao flops back against the bed with a sigh, fingers hooking in Mingyu’s shirt and pulling him in for a kiss, taking Mingyu by surprise. He goes along with it, stretching out next to Minghao and draping an arm over his waist.

“Did you do the reading for tomorrow?” Minghao asks after, leaning his head to the side. Mingyu groans, ducking his head to hide in the side of Minghao’s neck.

**{* * *}**

“Do you ever just want someone to put their hands around your throat and sit on you?” Mingyu asks the words falling out of his mouth before he thinks about it.

Wonwoo, rather than answering, drops his book on his face.

The two of them are in Mingyu’s room because it’s cleaner than anyone else’s and because Hansol is off somewhere else, and as much as Mingyu _should_ be going over this marketing homework, he can’t get his mind off of Minghao.

Which is a bad sign, because he and Minghao are just… friends who have a class together and occasionally mess around. It should be easy to concentrate on search engine optimization and not the shaky way Minghao sometimes mumbles his name before he comes.

“Is that a no?” Mingyu says when Wonwoo picks the book up but still doesn’t answer. Wonwoo scowls at him, flipping to the next page.

“That’s definitely a no,” he says, shaking his head. Mingyu pouts but decides he should probably let the topic drop there, turning back to his laptop.

After a minute, Wonwoo closes his eyes for a second and sighs. “Who are you even talking about?”

“Minghao,” Mingyu says like that should be obvious. He hasn’t actually hooked up with anyone else yet this semester, but in his defence, Minghao has managed to keep him so busy over the last several weeks he hasn’t really needed to think about it.

He hasn’t come to any more house parties, which isn’t really a surprise, but Mingyu can be social and have fun without looking for someone to sleep with.

“Soonyoung’s friend?” Wonwoo asks, squinting his eyes in that way that always makes him look grumpy but Mingyu knows means he’s just thinking. “The one Hansol caught you making out with?”

“Yeah, him,” Mingyu says, giggling a little, rubbing the back of his neck. It might be a good thing that they only meet at Minghao’s place since he just has one roommate and not a whole house of nosy frat brothers like Mingyu does. “We’ve kinda been um…”

He trails off, not sure exactly how much information he can give away before Wonwoo gives up on the conversation altogether.

Wonwoo seems to catch on just fine anyway, because he rolls his eyes, setting his book down with a sigh. “It’s not gonna be Dongmin all over again, is it?”

“No,” Mingyu says, whining a little, his face heating up. He was just starting to hope that his friends were finished bringing up Lee Dongmin, Mingyu’s unofficial bisexual awakening and his last attempt at a casual relationship.

“So you definitely don’t have a crush on this guy?” Wonwoo says, his lips pressed together in a straight line.

“Nope,” Mingyu says, his voice squeaking a little. “No crush. I just want him to sit on my face.”

And hold his hand. And cook dinner for him. And sit around and watch him paint. And play with his hair while he reads. And…

Wonwoo pulls a face at that, rolling his eyes. “You should just tell him you like him.”

“He’s not into relationships,” Mingyu says, pouting once again, poking sadly at the screen of his phone and avoiding actually looking at Wonwoo. “If I tell him that he’ll just break things off.”

“That might be for the best,” Wonwoo says, sighing when Mingyu shoots him a set of Sad Puppy Eyes. “If he doesn’t want a relationship then you’re the one who’s gonna get hurt in the long run. Again.”

“Or,” Mingyu says, shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the little sting he feels from Wonwoo’s pointed _again_. “I could just ignore my feelings forever and keep sleeping with him.”

“You could do that,” Wonwoo says, flat and unamused. “But that would be stupid.”

“It’s really good sex,” Mingyu says, shrugging. “And he doesn’t have to know I have a crush on him.”

“Because you’re always so subtle about it,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head and looking back down at his book. “He’s never gonna catch on.”

Mingyu frowns, looking back at his computer, intent on ignoring Wonwoo now.

It’s not that his advice is wrong, and Mingyu knows that Wonwoo isn’t intentionally cruel about these things. But he does wish that Wonwoo would even pretend to think that Mingyu isn’t going to make a total mess of things all over again.

Wonwoo sets his book down after awhile, sighing. “Put his hands around your throat? Really?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, laughing at the concerned furrow in Wonwoo’s brow, putting both hands at the bast of his own neck with a loose grin. “Just… y’know. A little bit.”

Or a lot. Mingyu doesn’t think he’d complain either way.

“You’re a freak,” Wonwoo says, rolling his eyes, a little smile at the corners of his lips.

“Says the guy who claims he’s a sapiosexual,” Mingyu grumbles, adjusting his laptop on his lap. “Settle for bondage like the rest of us.”

Mingyu only barely manages to duck in time to avoid the pen Wonwoo throws at his forehead.

**{* * *}**

When Minghao told him to come over after he got off work, he’d sworn they were going to actually be working on their papers.

The problem is that even though they have the same fifteen page Children’s Lit paper due at the end of the semester, it’s not due until the _end of the semester_ meaning that after half an hour of picking through random sources, Mingyu is already bored of thinking about it.

He flops over to the side so his head is resting on one of Minghao’s legs, interrupting him in glaring at his book, looking up with a pout on his face.

“I’m bored,” Mingyu says, refusing to budge when Minghao shoves at the top of his head in a wasted effort to get him to move.

“You’ve barely looked at anything,” Minghao says, looking down to roll his eyes. Mingyu takes that as his chance to pull the best Sad Eyes he can manage, lower lip stuck out. Minghao stares at him for all of ten seconds before he sighs and tosses his book onto the messy surface of his desk, knocking three other things to the floor in the process.

He’s denied all of Mingyu’s offers to clean anything up, and truth be told it isn’t _that_ bad— it just seems like Minghao has way more stuff than he has places to put it. Maybe the controlled chaos is part of the whole Artist thing he has going on, Mingyu isn’t really sure.

“Get up,” Minghao says, flicking Mingyu’s temple. Mingyu yelps, sitting up and rubbing at the side of his face, shooting Minghao a petulant glare.

All it does is make Minghao laugh. He leans over the edge of the bed, pulling open the lower drawer of his nightstand and rummaging through it. Mingyu leans over his shoulder, watching Minghao shove art supplies and old pens out of the way until he finds a beat-up plastic bag and a flat cardboard box, pulling them both out along with a lighter.

Minghao shuts the drawer with his elbow and Mingyu detaches himself reluctantly. Minghao adjusts so he’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, his feet tucked under his thighs, a crooked grin on his face when he holds the bag up between them.

It takes Mingyu just a little too long to catch on to what the dried plant in Minghao’s hand is and it makes Minghao laugh at him.

“Have you never smoked up before?” He asks, still gigging when he pulls the bag open, setting the box and the lighter down on his other leg. “You’re such a good boy.”

Mingyu could take the time to argue that he _has_ smoked before, if only a few times with Hansol, but something about the way Minghao says ‘good boy’ makes him blush and he loses his train of thought.

He must go just a little too long without saying anything though, because Minghao pauses, leaning his head a little to the side. “If you’re not up for it…”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu says, shaking his head and shifting a little bit closer. The musky smell of the weed is strong enough that Mingyu wrinkles his nose a little but Minghao doesn’t seem to notice. He sets the pot down, twisting to the side to grab a textbook from Mingyu’s bag and settling it in the middle of his lap.

Mingyu is about to ask what Minghao is doing when he pulls a thin looking piece of paper out of the box but he doesn’t want to seem even more like he doesn’t know what’s going on. Minghao glances up, a little bit of a grin still on his face, using two fingers to spread an even trail of weed along the centre of the paper.

“I didn’t think being in a frat was so boring,” Minghao says, combing his fingers back through his bangs in a vain effort to keep them out of his eyes.

“It’s not boring,” Mingyu says, giggling, leaning back and watching Minghao pick up the paper and run his tongue along the edge of it before rolling it up into a tube, his long fingers making the whole thing look easy.

“Are you just boring on your own then?” Minghao asks, setting the book back on the floor and everything else on top of his nightstand. Mingyu rolls his eyes.

“So boring you keep asking me to come over, huh?” He says, grinning. Minghao thinks that over for a second before he shrugs, twisting the lighter around between his fingers.

“Maybe I like that you’re easy to boss around,” he says, the little dimple on one of his cheeks showing when he smiles.

Mingyu doesn’t have a good argument for that— he likes when Minghao bosses him around and that’s obvious enough already.

“How do you do this?” Mingyu asks, more because he wants Minghao to show him than because he actually doesn’t know. Minghao hums, stretching his legs out.

“We should probably open the window so Seokmin doesn’t complain when he gets home,” he says, rolling off of the bed and pulling the old window open. It squeaks loudly enough to make Mingyu cringe and Minghao giggles, sitting back on the bed and motioning Mingyu closer.

They end up laying side-by-side, one of Mingyu’s arms tucked around Minghao’s side to save space, knees bumping together. Minghao is stretched out on his back, his upper half propped up by the pillows.

Mingyu watches him flick the lighter, touching the flame to one end of the paper and waiting for it to catch before setting the lighter down to the side. He takes a long, slow drag and Mingyu can feel the breath hovering in his chest. When he finally lets it out in a billowing cloud of smoke, his eyes flutter shut for a second as well and Mingyu hopes that the way he finds this all weirdly hot isn’t written all over his face.

It probably is, judging, by the way, Minghao giggles when he opens his eyes, the darkness of his pupils starting to swell. Mingyu reaches like he’s going to take the joint out of Minghao’s hand only to be swatted away. He opens his mouth to complain but Minghao just shakes his head.

“Stay still,” he says, his head tilted. He takes another drag but this time his other hand comes to rest on Mingyu’s chin, lifting it up and leaning in to touch their lips together.

It’s not quite a kiss, but Mingyu still gets the hint, opening his mouth to let Minghao breathe the cloud of smoke into it, his loose grip on Minghao’s hip flexing tighter. Minghao nudges his mouth closed with two fingers, his face still looming close in Mingyu’s vision.

“You gotta hold it,” he says, his fingers sliding along the edge of Mingyu’s jaw. It’s distracting and Mingyu nearly coughs, losing his focus with the desire to lean in and just kiss Minghao for real. He manages not to, letting all the air out of his lungs before they start screaming at him to take another breath.

“Good job,” Minghao says, a little laughter attached to his words. Mingyu isn’t sure if it’s the weed or Minghao’s voice that makes him feel warm all over.

The two of them end up sharing the whole joint that way, though at some point it goes from Minghao pushing smoke into his mouth to the two of them making out. Mingyu certainly isn’t complaining, though, not with Minghao kneeling on top of him, tongue in his mouth. He’s grinding his hips down on Mingyu’s though it’s slow and lacking any real rhythm.

“Hey,” Mingyu says when Minghao’s mouth ends up attached to his neck, sucking a bruise that he’s definitely going to get teased for later. His shirt got lost at some point, probably because it was too hot or in Minghao’s way; Mingyu can’t really remember. It makes him giggle, almost losing his train of thought, fingers combing through Minghao’s hair.

“What?” Minghao says, his breath hot and damp against the side of Mingyu’s throat.

“I wanna ask something,” Mingyu says, squeaking out a surprised sound when Minghao’s teeth scrape the side of his Adam’s Apple.

“So ask,” Minghao says, lifting his head up with a grin.

“I really want you to sit on my face,” Mingyu says, his fingers still in Minghao’s hair.

“That’s a request, not a question,” Minghao says, grin cutting sideways on his face.

“Then I’m requesting you sit on my face,” Mingyu says, whining even as he rolls his hips up into Minghao’s. He ducks his head toward his chest, giggling a little, his hair falling into his face. Rather than feeling silly for asking there’s a warm glow in the middle of his stomach and he can’t help but grin back, tucking his hands inside Minghao’s shirt and stroking his thumbs over the arch of his ribs.

“Fine,” Minghao says, combing his fingers back through his hair, bangs flopping back over his forehead once again. He shifts to the side, kneeling on the bed and arching his back and shoving his joggers down his thighs. He’s not wearing anything underneath and Mingyu makes a surprised, wanting sound without meaning to.

Minghao doesn’t laugh at him this time. There’s a little smirk on his face instead, reaching out and grabbing Mingyu’s jaw, one of his blunt nails tracing a line down his chin.

“What? You want me to fuck your face that bad?” He asks, pressing Mingyu’s lower lip with his thumb. The change in his tone makes Mingyu’s stomach twist up in a knot and he nods once again, grazing his hand up the inside of Minghao’s thigh. He opens his mouth, licking the pad of Minghao’s finger.

Even though Mingyu doesn’t quite nod, it’s obvious Minghao has the answer he’s looking for. He crawls across the bed, swinging one leg to the other side of Mingyu’s shoulder so Mingyu is laying between his thighs, legs spread far enough apart for him to find his balance. Mingyu makes a small, whining sound in the back of his throat, tilting his head back against the bed and reaching up to grab at Minghao’s waist. He pulls Minghao down until he’s within easy reach, sitting up and dragging his tongue in a long, damp stripe up the inside of Minghao’s thigh. He keeps both hands on Minghao’s hips, nipping up the inside of his leg until he reaches his cunt, leaning up a little further to press a messy, open-mouthed kiss against it.

Minghao gasps, pressing back against Mingyu’s face. He has both hands on Mingyu’s chest, resting his weight there for balance, nails scratching gently over his skin. Mingyu uses the tip of his tongue to slide between the slick folds, curling around Minghao’s clit and dragging down further to press against his hole. He laps his tongue between Minghao’s legs, starting out as slowly as he dares trying to get him to press down for more. One of Minghao’s hands slides across his chest, thumb teasing one of Mingyu’s nipples.

Mingyu arches up a little into the touch, pressing his face up further between Minghao’s thighs to push the tip of his tongue inside. He’s less concerned with the mess he’s making of himself— stretching his jaw wide to make it easier to press his tongue into Minghao’s hole, drool starting to run down one side of his cheek, probably making a huge mess out of the inside of his boxers— than with the way Minghao groans from the back of his throat, rolling his hips down against Mingyu’s tongue unevenly.

There’s a little tremble in his thighs that only makes Mingyu hold on tighter, nails biting into Minghao’s skin, fucking his tongue in as deep as he can. Two of Minghao’s fingers pinch his nipple, giving it a tug and making Mingyu whine, though the sound mostly gets lost under the pressure of Minghao pushing down on his face. Mingyu hardly minds it; he’s pushing up just as hard, wrapping his lips around Minghao’s clit and sucking on it sloppily.

He detaches one hand from Minghao’s hip, using it to grab blindly at Minghao’s wrist and pull his hand until it’s resting on the curve of his throat. He keeps his fingers wrapped around Minghao’s wrist for a few seconds, until Minghao catches on to what he’s asking for, tightening his fingers around Mingyu’s throat just enough for him to feel it. He’s far from actually cutting off any of Mingyu’s air, but the gesture still makes him feel floaty and lightheaded. He whimpers, turning his head to the side and pressing his forehead against Minghao’s thigh, panting out a few heavy breaths.

“Is that what you wanted?” Minghao asks, his fingers still curled around Mingyu’s throat, thumb stroking a little circle around his Adam’s apple. “I should’ve guessed you’re into the kinky shit.”

Mingyu can’t help but be glad his face is mostly hidden between Minghao’s thighs, meaning Minghao can’t see how red his face is. He’s also saved from answering, biting a soft pink bruise into Minghao’s thigh instead.

“I’ll have to show you something really fun next time,” Minghao says, his voice almost a purr, and Mingyu’s dick gives an embarrassing twitch in his jeans that he’s hoping Minghao doesn’t notice. He doesn’t have an answer otherwise, so he drags his nails down Minghao’s thigh and laps over his cunt again. Minghao bucks his hips in surprise, his grip inching just a little tighter around Mingyu’s throat.

He lays his head flat against the bed, pulling on Minghao’s hips so they’re still pressed against his face, tongue tracing the sensitive skin on either side of his clit slowly. Minghao makes a low, throaty sound before arching his back, grinding his hips back and forth. Mingyu stretches his mouth open, tracing his way down to Minghao’s opening and pressing his tongue inside again, letting Minghao roll his hips in tight circles at his own pace.

“Ah, fuck,” Minghao says, his voice straining over the words. Mingyu sort of wishes he could see the look on his face but he settles for sliding two fingers underneath him to rub his clit in quick jerks. Minghao groans again, grabbing Mingyu’s wrist but holding his hand in place rather than trying to pull it away, the pace of his hips jerky and uneven. His thighs squeeze tighter on either side of Mingyu’s head, and for a long moment, the only thing he can hear is the fast pounding of his own heart in his ears, accompanied by the rhythmic squeeze-and-release of Minghao’s pussy when he comes.

It takes a moment for Minghao to lift himself up, rolling to the side and flopping over on the bed on his stomach, still panting for air, the insides of his thighs shiny and wet. Mingyu sort of wants to put his mouth on them, still, to clean up the sticky mess and see if he can make Minghao squirm but he decides against it, dragging his knuckles up and down the back of Minghao’s leg instead.

“Still alive?” Mingyu asks, trying not to sound as smug as he feels.

“As soon as I have the energy to move, I’m gonna hit you,” Minghao says, his cheek pressed against the mattress. Mingyu giggles, wiggling closer and kissing up Minghao’s back, stroking his thumb over the black dragon tattooed on the back of his shoulder.

“Don’t do that,” he says, trying to hide his grin against Minghao’s skin. “Shouldn’t you be thanking me instead?”

“Sure,” Minghao says, laughing a little. “Good job.”

It makes Mingyu smile wider, even if Minghao means it as a joke.

Minghao grunts, shrugging Mingyu’s weight off of his shoulder and sitting up, pushing his sweat-sticky bangs away from his forehead. He looks down at Mingyu, stretched out on the bed, half-naked, with a goofy smile on his face and his cock still hard in his jeans. A grin starts to spread slowly across Minghao’s face.

“Want help with that?” He asks, grinning wider when Mingyu looks down and blushes. He’s about to point out that Minghao doesn’t have to do anything, but Minghao is already shoving himself off the bed, crossing the small room with only his loose shirt on and reaching into the top of the closet, leaving Mingyu to stare at his ass while he digs around on the shelf.

“What are you doing?” Mingyu asks, laughing in spite of his curiosity. Minghao grabs something off the shelf after a moment, turning around with a smirk.

“Put your arms over your head,” he says. Mingyu blinks, his face turning red as he does it, resting his wrists behind his head, propping himself up enough to look at Minghao a little better.

“Why?” He asks his voice squeaking a little. Minghao giggles, climbing back on the bed, using his knee to nudge Mingyu’s legs apart so he can kneel between them.

“Because I said so,” he says, setting what’s in his hand down next to Mingyu’s hip. Mingyu turns his head to look at it, blinking his eyes.

“A… hand massager?” He asks, reaching out to pick up the long plastic object with a furrow in his brow. It’s not what he was really expecting, to say the least.

Minghao laughs, taking it from Mingyu and shaking his head. He presses a button at the base, making the motor hum to life and the head of the thing start shaking with much more force than Mingyu was anticipating.

“It’s a vibrator, dumbass,” Minghao says, touching the tip of it to Mingyu’s bare stomach. The feeling makes him jump, his skin tingling from the sudden vibrations. It doesn’t take very much more than that for his brain to catch up.

“Oh,” he says, face red. Minghao grins, flicking the button to turn it off and setting it next to his leg.

“If you move your hands I’m gonna stop,” he says, pushing Mingyu’s arm to get him to lift it again. Part of Mingyu wants to ask why, but he’s starting to get the feeling that the purpose is really just to make tormenting him more fun for Minghao.

Still, he’s not really complaining, and he would probably do whatever Minghao tells him to even without the threat hanging over his head.

But Minghao looks satisfied, like a cat with a canary, scratching his nails over the base of Mingyu’s stomach before dragging his hands down to pull Mingyu’s jeans open. He tugs them down far enough to be out of the way but doesn’t bother going any further, grinding the heel of his palm into Mingyu’s cock. Mingyu groans, the sound embarrassingly loud for the sparse amount of friction he’s actually getting, arching his hips up into it.

“S- sorry,” he says, managing to keep himself from making another sound when Minghao’s thumb teases the wet tip of his cock through his underwear. “Your, um, neighbours.”

“I don’t care,” Minghao says, finally pulling Mingyu’s boxers out of the way. The cool air against his heated skin makes Mingyu flinch a little, his legs curling with the instinct to try and cover himself. He’s never been shy about his body but for some reason having his arms stuck over his head like this, even if it’s only by force of will, makes him feel that much more exposed.

Minghao puts a hand on his knee, stretching his leg out flat once again, shaking his head. “None of that either.”

“Fine,” Mingyu says, doing his best to sulk even though his heart is hardly in it. Minghao pats his leg twice before picking the toy up once again, rolling it in his palm for a second and staring down at Mingyu with dark, focused eyes.

He rests the bright purple toy against the tip of Mingyu’s cock without turning it on. He drags it gently up and down the shaft, the texture surprisingly silky against his skin. It’s an odd, new feeling and Mingyu isn’t sure how to react to it, puffing out shallow breaths.

Then Minghao turns the thing on, and all of Mingyu’s muscles tense up at once in response to the sudden buzzing against his cock. He jerks, only barely remembering to keep his hands above his head, nails digging hard lines into his palms. It’s much more overwhelming than he expected, the vibrations rattling straight down to his core, making his stomach twist. He squirms, a whimper squeezing out between his teeth when Minghao drags the toy back up the shaft of his cock, letting it rest against the defined ridge just below the head.

When he pulls it away, still buzzing, there are dots fluttering around in Mingyu’s vision, already leaking a little pool of precome onto his stomach.

“Don’t pass out,” Minghao says, pinching the inside of Mingyu’s thigh. Mingyu tries to frown but fails, reminding himself to actually keep breathing.

This time when Minghao slides the toy over his cock, he’s slightly more prepared for the feeling. He whimpers, pushing his hips up weakly. Every time Minghao manages to find a new sensitive spot to torment Mingyu’s thighs twitch, pressing together like he can somehow temper the relentless vibrating. It doesn’t work, and Minghao nudges his thighs apart once again. He drags the toy between Mingyu’s legs, grazing the tender skin of his balls before pressing up against his perineum. Mingyu whimpers out a series of short, sharp sounds, stretching out one arm to grab Minghao’s wrist, desperate just for something to hold onto.

Minghao’s thumb finds the off button before Mingyu even reaches him, pulling the toy away and giving his thigh a swat. “Hands.”

“Oh fuck you,” Mingyu says, the response totally ruined by the fact that he barely gets it out in between his heavy breaths. Minghao smirks, waiting until Mingyu returns his hands to its proper spot, wrapping his fingers around Mingyu’s cock and giving it a few slow pumps.

After the vibrator, Mingyu’s hand against his tingling skin is almost painful. Mingyu can feel his legs shaking, pushing up into Minghao’s fist without any sense of rhythm, all of his nerves set on a hard edge. It’s somehow too much and not enough all at once, made worse when Minghao clicks the vibrator on once again, holding it against the sensitive slit of Mingyu’s cock.

Mingyu shouts, burying his face in the crook of his arm as best he can, trying to resist the urge to curl in on himself. Minghao pulls the toy away after a moment, his thumb soothing over the same spot. Mingyu jerks, his mouth open against his arm, letting Minghao thumb at the wet slit of his cock.

“Do you want me to make you come?” Minghao asks, sounding way too pleased with himself. His fingers are loose and slow, teasing rather than bringing Mingyu any closer to actually getting off. “I can tell how close you are.”

He drags the toy over Mingyu’s stomach, the vibrations turned down to a low rumble that Mingyu can still feel in his cock. He nods his head desperately, opening his mouth to say something only to whine once again when Minghao drags the vibrator lower, letting it press against the base of Mingyu’s cock.

The sound Mingyu makes is long and loud, unable to actually stop himself with his arms stuck behind his head, come painting pearly steaks across his stomach. Minghao keeps drawing the toy in little circles around his cock until Mingyu is shaking, kicking his legs in a wasted effort to get away from all the stimulation.

Minghao pulls it away before Mingyu is forced to start crying for relief, turning the toy off and tossing it to the edge of the bed. Mingyu melts into the sheets, his legs still shaking, rolling to the side to wrap his arms around Minghao. He’s definitely ruining Minghao’s shirt but he’s hoping if he doesn’t point it out, Minghao won’t notice either.

Rather than shove Mingyu away, Minghao laughs and pecks his temple, petting his fingers back through Mingyu’s hair with a grin. “You okay?”

“I need a six-year nap,” Mingyu says, wiggling closer to hide his face against Minghao’s shoulder. “You just vibrated all the energy out of me.”

Minghao laughs, one of his hands smoothing up and down Mingyu’s back. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Mingyu asks, pouting. “That’s not fine. I need energy.”

“No I mean fine, stay here and take a nap,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes when Mingyu looks up at him.

It’s a surprise; Minghao has never offered much of anything in the way of post-coital affection, not that he really owes Mingyu anything.

“You gotta take your pants off though,” Minghao says, rescuing his underwear from the floor and wiggling it back on. Mingyu does as he’s told, kicking his jeans off and tucking himself back into his boxers. Minghao looks down at Mingyu’s stomach, then at his shirt and sighs.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, even though he doesn’t mean it.

“Whatever,” Minghao says, not sounding like he really means it either. He uses a corner of his shirt to wipe Mingyu’s stomach off the rest of the way before taking it off and tossing it away. Mingyu holds his arms open, smiling when Minghao lays down next to him and lets himself be enveloped.

**{* * *}**

When they wake up, hours later, the sun is half set, casting an orange glow over Minghao’s small bedroom. Minghao tilts his head back, looking up at the ceiling with a loose smile on his face.

“The light is cool,” he says, his fingers petting idly through Mingyu’s hair. “It’d make a nice picture.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu asks, looking up as well. He knows enough about photography to know that sunset and sunrise are supposed to be the golden hours for photographers. The time when they’ll get the best light.

Minghao reaches over, grabbing his phone from the messy nightstand and holding it above them, pulling his lips back in a little smile that makes his dimple show. Mingyu turns his face to smile at the camera as well, his hair a mess from Minghao’s fingers in it.

He takes the picture, then one more when the first doesn’t satisfy him. After that he sets his phone to the side again, relaxing back against Mingyu’s chest, still blinking his eyes with residual sleepiness.

Mingyu thinks this might be the most intimate he’s ever actually been with Minghao.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realistically, he knows there are only two options in front of him: break off his casual fling with Minghao before he gets hurt by it, or go out on a limb and ask Minghao to date him.
> 
> Both options really, royally suck. His chance of Minghao saying _yes_ is pretty much nothing, after all, and breaking things off now… the idea of it already stings Mingyu’s heart.
> 
> Minghao, maybe without thinking, leans his head against Mingyu’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for narrative language throughout that may be uncomfortable/dysphoric

Usually, Mingyu doesn’t hang around in Minghao’s bed until the sun is down, taking a nap and then actually spending some time studying after. So when he finally gathers his stuff up to leave, he’s not prepared for the other person standing in the kitchen humming to himself over a bowl of instant rice.

Mingyu stops, heat crawling up his face, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. He’s not sure if he should say something or just continue slinking out quietly and hope he goes unnoticed.

The choice gets made for him when the guy turns around, yelping and almost dropping his rice, his eyes round as coins.

“Oh!” He says when he’s regained his grasp on the food, a bright smile taking over his face. “You’re Minghao’s smash bro, right?”

“Um,” Mingyu says, his face going even redder at the comment, not sure how to respond. “I think so? I’m Mingyu.”

“Lee Seokmin,” he says, his eyes curving when he smiles. Mingyu has a moment to think of how unfair it is that both Minghao and apparently his roommate are incredibly hot, though in different ways. Seokmin is tall and broad and tanned, with fluffy, messy hair and a smile that could probably charm stone. He’s said all of two things to Mingyu and already Mingyu knows that he likes him.

“You’re Minghao’s roommate,” Mingyu says, Seokmin’s attitude putting him more at ease even with the awkwardness of the situation.

“Yeah,” Seokmin says, setting his food on the counter and raking his long fingers back through his hair. “Minghao’s been hiding you from me, I’m pretty sure. He only invites you over when I’m busy.”

“That’s not true,” Minghao says, leaning in the doorway of his room with his eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not _hiding_ anything.”

“I haven’t met him yet,” Seokmin says, sticking his lower lip out in a pout.

“I didn’t think you’d wanna listen in,” Minghao says, lifting both his eyebrows, the tone of his voice almost threatening. Seokmin just laughs, shaking his head.

“I should at least get to meet your smash bro! That’s my right as your best friend,” Seokmin says, beaming and stepping away from the counter to throw his arm around Mingyu’s side.

Mingyu laughs, putting his arm on Seokmin’s shoulder in return because he figures why not play along. “Smash bro?”

“It’s way better than ‘fuck buddy’ isn’t it?” Seokmin asks, looking up at Mingyu with his eyes curved into crescent moons. “Me and Soonyoung came up with it. It’s gonna catch on, I think.”

“It won’t,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes. Mingyu can see the way he’s fighting down a smile, no matter how annoyed he pretends to be. 

“I think it might,” Mingyu says, just to tease him a little more. Minghao snorts, shooting him a glare.

“Weren’t you going home?” He asks.

“I should,” Mingyu says, patting Seokmin’s shoulder before stepping away with a smile still on his face. “It was cool to meet you though.”

“You too!” Seokmin says, returning to his food. “I’ll make sure Minghao invites you over during regular business hours next time. Maybe when we watch a movie or something.”

As nice as that sounds, Mingyu can’t stop himself from glancing over at Minghao, his stomach twisting nervously. Up to now, he’s gotten the sense that Minghao isn’t really interested in mingling their lives any further than he has already; they fuck, sometimes they work on homework, but they don’t do anything else.

He’s been telling himself it’s fine if that’s all Minghao wants from him. He agreed to this, after all.

Minghao’s face doesn’t give anything away. He lifts one slim shoulder in a shrug before turning to go back into his room. “We’ll see.”

Mingyu lets Seokmin hug him before he goes and decides that answer is already better than anything else he was expecting.

**{* * *}**

Mingyu spends the entirety of their Tuesday lecture watching Minghao slowly sink lower and lower in his seat, fighting a losing battle as he tries to keep his eyes open.

It’s kinda cute. It’s even cuter when Minghao bolts upright whenever Mingyu gently nudges him only to continue drifting.

“Are you gonna make it through the rest of the day?” He asks before the class is over, keeping his voice low. Minghao hangs his head forward, humming an uneven little sound, his eyes hidden behind his bangs.

“I was up all night working on a painting,” he says, glancing at Mingyu, eyes resting for a second on his shoulder like he’s wondering how good a pillow it would make.

(Mingyu makes an extremely good pillow, though this doesn’t seem like the right time to point that out to Minghao.)

“You should go take a nap,” Mingyu says, poking Minghao’s ribs gently. Minghao swats lazily at his hand, shaking his head.

“Too busy,” he says, mumbling still. He props his head up on his palm, turned to look at Mingyu, shaking it slightly. “Mid-terms are soon anyway.

There are dark shadows under his eyes and Mingyu has to force down the desire to reach out and stroke his thumb over the delicate skin.

“I’ll buy you a coffee,” Mingyu says, patting Minghao’s shoulder. Minghao nods, dragging his eyes back to the board at the front and stifling a yawn.

“Sounds good,” he says after a minute, nodding.

 

Mingyu doesn’t think about how the offer might have come off until after the class finishes and they’re sitting in one of the small campus coffee shops, waiting for the americanos that Mingyu ordered for both of them. There’s a quiet, acoustic song playing in the background and Minghao picked a table in a shaft of sunlight, claiming that it would help him stay awake.

But maybe all of that only seems romantic because Mingyu has a crush on him, even when he isn’t supposed to.

“I can pay you back for the coffee,” Minghao says, gathering his hair in his hands and twisting the worn out elastic around it to keep it back from his face. A few pieces his missed fall down to frame his face and Mingyu reaches out to brush them back without thinking about it.

“It’s fine,” Mingyu says, dropping his hand and shaking his head. He doesn’t know exactly what Minghao’s boundaries are in public and the last thing he wants to do is mess up and go back to Minghao being annoyed every time he opens his mouth.

They’re approaching what Mingyu would dare classify as friends, not two people who just fuck and are kinda companionable after.

“Did you finish your painting, at least?” Mingyu asks, curling his fingers into a loose fist in the hope that it’ll quell some of his urge to reach out and touch Minghao.

Minghao sighs, shaking his head and holding up his paint-smeared hands. The side of his left hand is covered almost entirely in black paint and there are random spots of different colors. “I was still working on it before I had to leave for class.”

Mingyu laughs, pushing himself out of his chair when they call his name to grab the drinks, bringing them back to the table and handing Minghao his with a smile.

“I can’t tell the difference,” he admits, sitting down once again. “You’re always kinda colorful.”

“You’re still bad at flirting,” Minghao says, grinning and tapping the brightly colored straw against his lower lip before taking a sip.

Mingyu’s face goes pink, shaking his head quickly, poking at the condensation gathering on the outside of the plastic cup. “I just meant you’re always covered in paint.”

Minghao grins a little side, tipping one of his elbows up and Mingyu rolls his eyes.

“Whatever,” he says, pouting while he sips at his coffee. “So you’re going back to painting?”

“I need a few finished pieces for my mid-term critique,” Minghao says, shaking the ice in his cup. “So I have to finish this one.”

“Can I see it?” Mingyu asks, the words popping out of his mouth before he thinks it through.

Minghao leans his head to the side, his mouth pressed flat for a second before he smiles a little. “Sure, if you want to. It’ll help to have someone there to keep me up.”

Mingyu thinks about how Wonwoo said he wasn’t capable of being subtle then pushes it out of mind— he’s sure that if Minghao didn’t want him around while he was painting, he’d have no issues just saying so.

He follows when Minghao stands up, shrugging his bag over his shoulder and letting the coffee dangle from his fingers by the lid. Mingyu is expecting that they’re going back to Minghao’s apartment since he’s seen the kitchen converted into a makeshift painting area more than once, but instead, he follows Minghao to one of the art buildings, down two flights of stairs to the studios in the basement.

Minghao shoves the door open with his shoulder, flicking on the lights and dropping his bag by the door. There’s an easel and a stool set up in the room, along with a few other random bits of furniture, all of it flecked with random bits of paint.

Mingyu ends up sitting on top of an old desk, his legs crossed in front of him, leaning forward and watching Minghao set up his paints. He’s not surprised to see the canvas he has set up is already covered completely in black paint, judging from the amount that he has on his hands, but there’s no indication of what else he’s planning on doing with it.

“I’m gonna put on some music too,” Minghao says, digging a speaker out of his seemingly bottomless bag and plugging his phone in. He spends longer than Mingyu expects on picking out the right song, a furrow in his brow, scrolling through his phone.

He finally settles on the music and Mingyu ends up pulling his laptop out of his own bag. It only makes sense to get some work done as well, if he’s here to help, or watch, or just make sure Minghao doesn’t fall asleep against his canvas.

It’s nice though— Minghao is mostly quiet while he paints, sometimes humming along to the music or mumbling to himself, but it’s comfortable to watch. He’s never really had the chance to see Minghao properly in his element.

He hasn’t actually seen Minghao do that much of anything, Mingyu realizes. Other than class and their occasional hook-ups, his interactions with Minghao have been pretty limited. It makes Mingyu more curious than he might have been otherwise and it doesn’t take long before he forgets about his own work entirely, just watching Minghao instead.

“I don’t think staring is gonna keep me awake,” Minghao says, glancing over his shoulder with a little grin on his face.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, more out of habit than any actual guilt. “It’s cool to watch.”

“Is it?” Minghao asks, leaning back in his chair to take in his work, laughing a little. “I don’t even really know what I’m doing anymore.”

Toward the top corner of the canvas, there’s a growing mass of different colored brush strokes. The colors are all vibrant, standing out against the black background of the canvas and some of them have started to drip down in long trails of pigment.

“It looks like a heart,” Mingyu says, after a long moment of staring.

Minghao scratches his cheek with the brush in his hand, chuckling softly. “Does it?”

“Yeah. Like, not a heart shape but what a heart actually looks like,” Mingyu says, fumbling a little to find the right words.

“Cool,” Minghao says, flicking his wrist and sending orange paint spattering against the canvas. “It’ll be a heart then.”

Mingyu ducks a little bit further behind his laptop, a wide smile on his face.

**{* * *}**

When Minghao promised to _show him something really fun_ , this is not exactly what Mingyu had in mind.

Not that he’s in any real position to complain— his pants have already been tossed on the floor and Minghao is adjusting the black fabric carefully situated at his hips, looking down at Mingyu with an almost predatory grin on his face.

As unexpected as it is, Mingyu can’t resist the urge to reach out and slide the palm of his hand along the long silicone cock attached to the fabric belt, his lip caught between his teeth. It makes Minghao’s grin a little wider, pushing forward into Mingyu’s hand, letting Mingyu wrap his fingers around the toy and get a better sense of the girth of it.

“Um,” Mingyu says because he can’t think of anything else.

“Have you not had someone fuck you before?” Minghao asks, dragging his nails along the inside of Mingyu’s thigh.

In fact, Mingyu has bottomed all of two times, and neither was particularly great, as excited as he was about it. But rather than try and explain, Mingyu just shrugs his shoulders, giggling a little nervously.

“Not with something like that,” he says, dropping his hand and shaking his head.

Minghao laughs, bending over to kiss Mingyu, supporting his weight on his palms. Mingyu can feel the dildo pressing against his stomach, the silicone cool against his bare skin and it makes him twitch.

“Don’t worry,” Minghao says, still sounding more amused than anything else. It’s reassuring anyway; their faces are still close together and Mingyu can feel the warmth of Minghao’s breath against his cheek. “I’ll take care of you.”

That shouldn’t make Mingyu’s heart leap the way it does— he’s not a virgin and he doesn’t _need_ Minghao to treat him like one. There’s an appeal to it though; it makes things seem far more personal than they actually are.

Mingyu rolls his eyes, shoving at Minghao’s shoulder a little, huffing out what he means to be a laugh. “Just get on with it.”

“So much for romance,” Minghao says, sawing his hips back and forth so the toy rubs against Mingyu’s half hard cock through his boxers. “I can always flip you over and really give it to you if you want.”

The casual, assured way that he offers it makes Mingyu’s face flush and for a moment he can’t honestly decide which sounds better to him. Minghao seems happy to wait it out, one hand under Mingyu’s knee to keep him from squeezing his legs shut, still slowly rubbing the dildo against him.

It’s a deep, crimson shade of red and somehow that makes it both sexier and more intimidating. Mingyu can’t really think of anything except that he wants whatever Minghao is going to give him, pushing his hips back up into the teasing friction with a little whine.

“Can you please just…” Mingyu manages finally, reaching out and grabbing one of Minghao’s hips, trying to pull him in closer. “Touch me.”

“Fine,” Minghao says, laughing. He stretches out to grab the bottle of lube that he pulled out when he grabbed the strap-on originally, setting it on the bed next to Mingyu’s thigh.

Mingyu shimmies his boxers off, almost kicking Minghao in the knee in his haste to get out of them. Minghao still has his tank top on and Mingyu sits up to pull that off over his head as well, unwilling to be the only one naked for this. Minghao’s fingers snag the back of his hair, hauling him in closer for a kiss, his teeth tugging Mingyu’s lower lip until he whines. His fingers skate over Minghao’s chest, thumb pressing into one of his nipples, giving the silver ring hanging from it a flick.

He can feel the Minghao’s shiver at that and it makes him feel more bold, giving the ring a slight tug. He’s careful not to pull hard— just enough that Minghao hisses softly and presses forward, his mouth open against Mingyu’s.

“I’m surprised you don’t have anything else pierced,” Mingyu says, stroking his thumb around the ring before pressing it up slightly.

“Why? My ears and my chest aren’t enough for you?” Minghao asks, his voice slightly uneven.

As much as Mingyu likes the overwhelming confidence Minghao seems to have in bed, this is fun too. He wants the chance to play around more— to see where he’s sensitive, what kind of noises he might make when he’s worked up.

He doesn’t get the chance this time, because Minghao pushes him back against the bed with a grin.

“If you are a virgin you gotta tell me now,” he says, his hand between Mingyu’s legs, the pad of his thumb pressing the tight muscle of his hole. He rolls his finger, rubbing it slowly and making Mingyu grunt.

“I’m _not_ ,” he says, shaking his head, hoping the emphasis is enough to get Minghao to hurry up what he’s doing.

It isn’t, of course. Minghao smiles, teeth skimming the side of Mingyu’s neck, apparently searching for the right spot to dig them into his skin. He ends up sucking a dark bruise into the skin just above Mingyu’s collarbone and even when he whines, Mingyu is glad in the back of his mind that it’s getting cool enough to wear a scarf. 

Minghao pulls his hand away, flicking the cap of the bottle open with his thumb and smearing the cool fluid over his fingers. He drops it carelessly to the side when he’s done, looking down at Mingyu with a grin, pressing the tips of his cold fingers to Mingyu’s rim. Mingyu hisses softly at the temperature, his muscles jumping.

Mingyu makes a conscious effort to relax his muscles, making it easier for Minghao’s finger to press past the tight ring of his muscles. It’s been a while since Mingyu has had anyone inside him and the feeling takes some getting used to. He lets his eyes slide shut, lip caught between his teeth as he adjusts to the slight stretch of one of Minghao’s long, slender fingers. Minghao rubs Mingyu’s thigh with his other hand, encouraging him to relax a little more.

“There you go,” Minghao says, his voice a little surprising. It’s low and raspy in a way that’s unfairly sexy and it makes Mingyu’s hips twitch down against his hand.

He opens his mouth to tell Minghao once again that he doesn’t need to be coached through it but ends up just groaning instead when Minghao presses a second finger in, stretching Mingyu out around the width of his knuckles. He scissors his fingers apart, apparently more confident in Mingyu’s ability to take it, fucking them slowly in and out. It feels nice, even if it isn’t nearly enough after the promise of being fucked with the toy Minghao has strapped to his pelvis.

“C’mon,” he whines, nudging the back of Minghao’s leg with his heel, opening his eyes to stare up at him plaintively.

Minghao’s grin gets a little wider, curving his fingers up and rubbing against one of Mingyu’s walls, pressing until he finds the spot that makes Mingyu jerk.

“You’re greedy,” Minghao says, rubbing the pads of his fingers into Mingyu’s prostate for a few seconds before pulling them away again. There’s less laughter to his words though from the smirk on his face it’s obvious he’s still teasing. He swats Mingyu’s thigh when Mingyu pushes his hips down again, barely enough to sting. It still makes Mingyu’s cock twitch against his stomach in a way that it would be hard for Minghao to miss.

Mingyu can feel himself blushing but there’s a spark in Minghao’s eyes, his hand resting on the same spot still. “Do you like that too?”

For a moment, Mingyu considers just not answering him at all, but Minghao starts to pull his fingers out and he’s much more willing to play along if it means Minghao won’t stop.

“Yeah, I guess,” Mingyu says, licking his lips nervously. He hasn’t had that many chances in the past to fool around with things that get him off in theory. “You don’t have to be so careful with me.”

He’s not really expecting Minghao to chuckle in response, dragging his nails down Mingyu’s thigh hard enough to leave thin red lines in his skin.

“Alright,” he says, pulling his fingers out and ignoring Mingyu’s put out pout. “Roll over, then.”

Mingyu considers complaining but decides to go with it instead, rolling over on his stomach and taking a second to reposition himself on the bed. Minghao pinches his thigh, shaking his head.

“On your knees for me, c’mon,” he says, pulling his hand away. Mingyu pushes his knees under him, lifting his ass in the air and pulling one of Minghao’s pillows under his chest to make it a little more comfortable. The springs creak slightly in protest when Minghao repositions himself, and Mingyu can feel the smooth head of the dildo dragging up the back of his thigh.

He expects Minghao to either slide the toy in or go back to fingering him, so when the hot tip of his tongue traces around his rim, it makes Mingyu jump, swallowing a surprised whimper. Minghao’s fingers dig into his ass, nails carving thin crescents into the skin, spreading him open to make it easier to lap over his hole.

Mingyu groans, burying his face in his arms and squeezing his eyes shut, trying not to shove his hips back against Minghao’s face. Minghao pushes his tongue in, gripping tighter when Mingyu wiggles his hips to hold him in place. He fucks his tongue in and out slowly, guiding Mingyu in rocking his hips back and forth with the same rhythm.

He detaches one of his hands from Mingyu’s ass, pushing one of his fingers in alongside his tongue. Mingyu whimpers, shoving his hips back in a wasted effort to force Minghao’s tongue in further. Minghao pulls his face back, his finger still buried in Mingyu’s hole, biting his ass hard enough that it’s bound to leave the imprint of his teeth behind for the next few days. Mingyu’s legs slide further apart, pressing harder into the bed and he turns to look over his shoulder with a little pout on his face

“I thought you were gonna fuck me,” Mingyu says, though truth be told he wouldn’t mind if Minghao went back to eating him out, either. Minghao raises his eyebrows and Mingyu doesn’t have the time to tense up before Minghao’s palm connects with his ass. The sting is a surprise and he yelps softly, jerking his hips away, pressing his forehead against his arms. It doesn’t actually hurt and after a moment Mingyu leans back again.

He can hear Minghao laughing a little, followed by the sound of the bottle of lube opening once again. Mingyu turns to watch over his shoulder, Minghao’s long fingers spreading a layer of lube over the bright red surface of the toy, moving his wrist in slow, deliberate strokes.

Mingyu’s stomach tightens and he barely manages to stop himself from squeaking out an embarrassing sound when the blunt silicone head presses against his stretched rim. He pushes in slowly and Mingyu groans, resting his forehead on top of his arms and arching his back.

The slight burn of his muscles adjusting to the stretch is familiar but it still makes Mingyu whines softly through his teeth, his thighs spreading out wider when he adjusts his legs. Minghao’s hands slide up his back, the touch soft and soothing, massaging the small of Mingyu’s back.

“You okay?” Minghao asks once his hips are pressed firmly against Mingyu’s, the whole of the toy buried inside of him. Mingyu nods, picking his head up just enough to manage it.

It takes more time to fully adjust than Mingyu expects, tentatively pushing his hips back against Minghao’s. Minghao takes the hint, pulling back until just the rounded tip of the dildo is still inside, shoving forward until their hips slap together, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. The force of it makes Mingyu nearly choke on his next inhale, breath hanging around uselessly in the middle of his chest. Minghao grinds their hips together, making the blunt head of the toy rub into Mingyu’s prostate for a moment before pulling back and thrusting in harshly again. 

He keeps up with the same pace, the quick, brutal sawing of his hips making Mingyu whine into his arms, arching his back to push his ass out further. Minghao makes a pleased sound behind him, not quite a groan but more like a hum of approval. Once he’s more settled into the rhythm, Mingyu rocks his hips back against Minghao’s, making the dildo push in deeper each time Minghao bottoms out.

Minghao pushes in all the way, staying there and grinding their hips together once again, reaching out to grasp Mingyu’s shoulder and pull him back. It forces Mingyu to sit up, his back pressed to Minghao’s chest, letting Minghao’s arms wrap around him to hold him there. The angle is hard to hold and his legs start to shake but he does his best to ignore it, wrapping one arm around Minghao’s neck and groaning when Minghao starts fucking into him much faster.

Mingyu leans his head back on Minghao’s shoulder, panting for air, twitching when one of Minghao’s hands teases around his nipple. Minghao seems to have no trouble finding exactly what spots make Mingyu feel good; teeth scraping the shell of his ear, fingers pinching one of his nipples, cock sawing back and forth against his prostate. It’s good but still too much at once, meaning that Mingyu’s whole body is shaking, struggling to hold himself up and keep from melting into the sheets from the heat purring under his skin.

“Does that feel good?” Minghao says, his voice vibrating Mingyu’s skin. Mingyu shudders, nodding his head weakly, still trying to push his hips back even though the position he’s in affords him no real leverage. He can’t see the smirk on Minghao’s face, but when he talks, Mingyu can hear it. “Or am I still being too careful with you?”

Mingyu only has just enough time to process the question before Minghao is shoving him forward, letting Mingyu land face first on the bed, planting both hands on the small of his back.

He’s never actually had someone offer to be rough with him, and the thought of it alone makes Mingyu whimper, his cheek pressed against the bed, struggling to keep his eyes open. Minghao’s hands slide to bracket his hips, nails carving thin crescents into his flesh, using them to pull Mingyu back on each thrust.

The bed squeaks under them, protesting all the movement. Mingyu groans, his legs slipping further apart, all his nerves hovering on a painful edge. Minghao pulls his hips up once again, tightening his grip when it becomes obvious Mingyu’s legs don’t quite have the strength to hold him up all the way. The sharp pricks of his nails makes Mingyu shudder, pressing his forehead against the bed and struggling to pull enough air into his lungs.

One of Minghao’s hands slides around his hip, long fingers wrapping around his cock and stroking it off rhythm with the pace of his hips. Mingyu groans, the sound cracking on the way out of his dry throat, nails scrabbling uselessly over the sheets, trying to find a way to ground himself.

It only takes a few flicks of Minghao’s wrist to make Mingyu come, mumbling out a broken version of Minghao’s name into the sheets, barely keeping himself upright. Minghao is relentless, fucking Mingyu through his orgasm and continuing until Mingyu’s legs slide down on the bed, leaving him laying flat on the bed.

Mingyu groans when he feels the heat of Minghao’s body covering his back, pressing a series of soft kisses against his shoulders.

“Still alive?” He asks, clearly pleased with himself. Mingyu turns his head to the side, looking up at Minghao and smiling a little.

“I’m not sure,” he says, pushing his bangs back from where they’re stuck to his forehead with a layer of sweat.

Minghao laughs, kissing the nape of Mingyu’s neck, nuzzling along the back of his shoulder. “No dying in my bed.”

Mingyu huffs, rolling onto his side when Minghao sits up, stretching his arms out over his head. He could probably fall asleep exactly like that; naked and sweaty with come on his stomach but he’s pretty sure Minghao wouldn’t be a fan of it. Reluctantly, he pushes himself upright, curling his fingers in Minghao’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. Minghao hums, sliding in closer, nipping at Mingyu’s lower lip.

He drops one hand to toy with one of the straps at Minghao’s hips, swallowing hard. “Do you want me to, um…”

Minghao leans back slightly, a surprised look on his face before he smiles. “I figured you were just gonna pass out.”

“I could do that too,” he says, laughing a little. Minghao grins, brushing Mingyu’s hand away to pull the straps open with quick, confident fingers, dropping the toy out of the way before sliding in close again.

He ends up laying on his side, facing Minghao, one hand between his legs, rubbing his clit in quick twists of his wrists. Minghao sighs, leaning his head back, his eyes hovering half-open. He has his thighs spread apart just enough to make space for Mingyu’s hand.

“Yeah, fuck, just…” Minghao says, his voice a low mumble, gripping one hand around Mingyu’s wrist and pushing his hips forward into Mingyu’s hand. Mingyu slips one finger past Minghao’s entrance, curling it to rub against his walls. Minghao bites down on his lip, squirming his hips around a little more, nails digging into Mingyu’s skin.

Mingyu makes him come like that, fucking him shallowly with one finger, thumb rubbing his clit in tight circles, listening to Minghao struggle to swallow down all his whimpers.

This time, when he pulls his hand away, he’s struck by the urge to lick his fingers clean— so he does, aware of Minghao’s lidded eyes watching him the whole time.

“If we don’t actually start studying when we say we will my grades are gonna go to hell,” Minghao says after a long moment, rolling on his back and arching his whole body in a stretch. Mingyu laughs, ducking his head forward and sitting up himself, wondering exactly how sore his hips are gonna be tomorrow.

“You started it,” he says, countering Minghao with a grin.

Not that he’s reluctant to go along, but that’s not really the point, is it?

**{* * *}**

It’s a surprise when Minghao actually follows up on Seokmin’s promise to make sure Mingyu is invited over when there are other people in the apartment. It’s such a surprise that Mingyu doesn’t even take the time to be cheeky and remind Minghao about his rule about meeting each other’s friends.

Mingyu would rather get rid of all the rules if he’s being honest. He’s happy to let Minghao forget about them for one night.

So, he ends up crunched on Minghao’s old couch with Minghao sitting next to him and Soonyoung on Minghao’s other side. Seokmin is curled up in the ugly green recliner with his boyfriend, Jeonghan, the two of them somehow managing to fit in the space meant for a single person.

Jeonghan brought over drinks for all of them and declared that meant he was in charge of the movie. He managed to win the following argument with Soonyoung and Minghao— Seokmin refused to disagree with him on it.

It’s nice, though. It’s a different kind of atmosphere than Mingyu is used to. He does things with Sigma other than party, of course, but all packed into a room they tend to be a lot louder, a lot rowdier.

They certainly don’t watch a movie about a woman falling in love with some kind of merman— the only film that Minghao and Jeonghan could actually agree on, it seems. It’s a little hard to follow, with all the strange settings and the quick flashes of violence that make Mingyu’s stomach turn. But he finds himself weirdly drawn into it— even if the romance is odd, it’s compelling and he kinda finds himself rooting for the lady and her fish boyfriend.

He’s so drawn into the film that it takes him awhile to realize he has his arm draped around Minghao’s shoulders, encouraging Minghao to lean back against his side. But as soon as he notices, he can’t block it out of his awareness again. Minghao’s body is warm and if Mingyu focuses, he can feel the slight bumps of his spine through his shirt.

Worse, though, than the way the slight whiff of paint and shampoo clings to Minghao is the fact that Mingyu isn’t sure if he should move away now that he’s noticed. This is definitely against Minghao’s rules, after all. He doesn’t even really like cuddling after the two of them get done having sex. Either Mingyu leaves or they find something else to do after they have all their clothes back on.

It feels like a big step just to have been invited into Minghao’s time with his friends. Mingyu doesn’t want to screw it up by pushing things in the wrong direction. But Minghao doesn’t seem to have noticed, and if Mingyu pulls his arm away now, won’t that seem even weirder?

“I bet the old guy dies,” Minghao says, leaning his head back to hiss a whisper in Mingyu’s ear.

Not quietly enough it seems because Soonyoung looks over at them with his cheeks puffed out in a pout.

“I don’t think so,” Mingyu says, bringing his mouth close to Minghao’s ear. “He’s the one narrating, isn’t he?”

“Maybe,” Minghao says, his lips turned up in a slight smile. He tilts his head back further to look at Mingyu properly, just for a second. “You think they’re all gonna live?”

The light in the room is low to make it easier to see the movie on the old TV but it makes Minghao’s eyes sparkle, the side of his face lit up blue from the screen. Mingyu’s heart catches in his throat and he forgets what question Minghao even asked him.

God, he hates how much Wonwoo is right about everything.

“Y- yeah,” he says, several beats too late. Minghao hums, his attention already pulled back to the screen.

Mingyu wants to run to the bathroom and stick his head under the faucet. He wants to run outside and bang his head against the brick wall of the building.

He wants to kiss Minghao. He wants to hold his hand while they walk out of class together.

He wants Minghao to want him, too.

Realistically, he knows there are only two options in front of him: break off his casual fling with Minghao before he gets hurt by it, or go out on a limb and ask Minghao to date him.

Both options really, royally suck. His chance of Minghao saying _yes_ is pretty much nothing, after all, and breaking things off now… the idea of it already stings Mingyu’s heart.

Minghao, maybe without thinking, leans his head against Mingyu’s shoulder.

There might be only two choices, but there’s nothing saying that Mingyu has to make up his mind tonight.

And, well, who knows. Maybe Minghao will come around to the idea of a relationship on his own.

Mingyu curls his arm just a little tighter around Minghao’s shoulders and decides that, at least for a little while, he can hold on to his own foolish hope.

**{* * *}**

In general, Mingyu feels a little silly showing up to Children’s Lit five minutes late with his nicest blazer tucked under his arm, bag bouncing against his hip as he jogs to his seat, ducking his head in an effort to avoid the annoyed look the professor gives him.

He probably looks like he just came from his job as an accountant, in a nice white shirt and tight navy slacks, tie still tight around his neck. The first thing Minghao does when he sits is look him over then muffle a little laugh, rolling his eyes.

“Are you applying for a loan after this?” Minghao whispers, leaning over to give Mingyu’s tie a gentle yank. Mingyu fights the urge to groan, draping the blazer over the back of his seat and shaking his head.

He shouldn’t have tried so hard to make friends with Minghao in the first place. Then he could at least have a crush that doesn’t spend all of their time teasing him.

Mingyu huffs, brushing Minghao’s hand away from the tie and shaking his head.

“I had a presentation for my business class,” Mingyu says. He tries to sound confident but it just ends up coming out petulant instead. Minghao raises an eyebrow, a sideways grin creeping up on his face.

“Really?” He says, tapping his fingers against the plastic table. “You should’ve told me. I’d like to see that.”

He’s obviously just barely keeping himself from giggling in the middle of class and Mingyu sinks down in his seat, sticking his lower lip out in a pout.

“Making fun of me now isn’t enough?” He asks, casting a sideways glance in Minghao’s direction.

Minghao seems to think it over for a second before shrugging, reaching out to pat Mingyu’s arm.

“It’s not so bad,” he says, his eyes flicking up and down once again, taking in the outfit. “It suits you.”

Mingyu doesn’t get the chance to ask what he means before they have to split up into group discussions.

When they start to file out, Mingyu is a little surprised when Minghao attaches to his side once again, looking at his phone but walking close enough to bump their shoulders together.

“You should come with me,” he says, his voice cool and relaxed.

Mingyu blinks, adjusting the blazer on his shoulders and leaning his head to the side in surprise. “Where?”

“Home,” Minghao says, glancing up to roll his eyes.

Minghao hasn’t invited him to hang out after class since the first time when Mingyu sat around just to watch him paint. He’s pretty sure it’s because Seokmin is usually home this time of day, sometimes with Jeonghan, and the only reason Mingyu is ever over there is for sex.

“Really?” He says, trying not to start bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Yeah,” Minghao says, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Seokmin’s getting tutoring today.”

Silly as it is for someone who’s definitely being offered sex, Mingyu’s a little disappointed. It’s not that he’s not up for sleeping with Minghao in the middle of a Thursday afternoon— he is— but he’s still hoping that at some point, Minghao is going to let him in for real.

Maybe he has his heart set on all the wrong things, but he still can’t help it. Sleeping with Minghao is fun, and it’s Mingyu’s best chance to spend time with him. 

He hasn’t tried to talk his feelings out since Wonwoo was so quick to shoot him down before but he’s also pretty sure anyone in Sigma would make fun of him for ruining a perfect _no strings attached_ arrangement. Even if most of them wouldn’t understand Mingyu’s decision to hook up with Minghao, to begin with.

The problem is that Mingyu definitely wants strings when it comes to Minghao.

“Sure,” he says because he’s still stupid enough to agree.

Minghao glances over at him and grins, reaching out to give Mingyu’s tie a quick tug, making it slide a little tighter around his neck.

He drops his hand just as fast, turning toward his apartment. “Cool.”

 

Usually, when they get to Minghao’s place, they go straight back to Minghao’s room with their shoes in a neat line. This time, however, Minghao only waits for Mingyu to kick his off before backing him up against the ugly, lime green couch, hands sliding under his blazer to drag over Mingyu’s back.

“I can’t believe you just wear this to classes,” Minghao says, shaking his head. His chest is pressed into Mingyu’s and Mingyu has his lower back pushed up against the couch, leaving him nowhere else to go.

“You can’t still be teasing me about the outfit,” Mingyu says, rolling his eyes. “I’m taking it off in five minutes.”

Minghao’s teeth sink into his thick lower lip, looking up at Mingyu for a second before shaking his head.

“Nah,” he says, pulling his hands away from Mingyu’s back to toy with the tie instead. “It looks good.”

Mingyu is about to accuse him of just saying that to get into his pants, but there’s a bright gleam in Minghao’s eyes that catches him by surprise. Mingyu licks his lips nervously, gripping the back of the couch.

“So you don’t want me to take it off?” He asks, biting the inside of his cheek when Minghao wraps the tie around his fist, giving it a small pull like he’s testing it.

“You’re leaving it on,” Minghao says, raising both of his eyebrows like he’s expecting Mingyu to challenge him.

“Okay,” Mingyu says, unexpectedly weak in the knees. Minghao’s grin inches wider and he leans up on his toes, using the grip on Mingyu’s tie to pull him down into a kiss.

Mingyu breathes out a shaky breath against Minghao’s mouth, letting Minghao’s tongue push past his lips, opening up easily for it. The way Minghao is holding into the tie is a reminder of having him on top of Mingyu’s face, hand wrapped around his throat and it makes him squirm his hips forward without meaning to.

Minghao doesn’t pull back to tease him about it, sucking on his lower lip until Mingyu groans, hands coming to grasp at his hips. There’s a sharp pull in the middle of his stomach and for a moment Mingyu’s mind is empty of the desire for anything except Minghao pulling the tie around his neck until it gets hard for him to breathe.

He pulls back with a bitten off groan, resting his forehead against Minghao’s, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks, his grip loosening. Mingyu nods, too quickly, almost tipping forward when Minghao pulls his head back in an effort to chase after him.

“Yeah,” he says, sounding out of breath even to his own ears. “I’m good.”

Minghao looks up at him with a scowl, still not convinced and Mingyu swallows hard, reaching out to grab Minghao’s wrist and pull it up toward his neck, staring directly over Minghao’s shoulder because making eye contact while he basically asks Minghao to choke him is just too much.

He’s lucky that Minghao seems to get the picture quickly, hooking his fingers under the collar of Mingyu’s shirt at the back of his neck and giving it a little pull. It brings the neatly tied knot of the tie up against the center of Mingyu’s throat. The weight of it rests heavy there and Mingyu shuts his eyes, trying to suppress the shiver that tickles down his spine.

Minghao releases his grip after a moment, too soon for what Mingyu really wants, pulling him away from the old couch and toward the bedroom with a little shake of his head. He only lets Mingyu shed the blazer, dropping it on the back of Minghao’s desk chair in the hopes that it won’t get too wrinkled, before pushing him onto the creaky bed.

“You should wear this more often,” Minghao says, climbing to kneel over Minghao’s hips, pushing his lips together thoughtfully.

“My suit?” Mingyu asks his laughter a little strained. Minghao’s fingers slide up his chest, over the smooth cotton of his shirt. His fingers brush over the buttons but he doesn’t start plucking them open just yet.

“Yeah,” Minghao says, his smile a little crooked, straightening Mingyu’s tie out on his chest. “Makes you look kinda upstanding.”

Usually, Mingyu would just laugh it off, but something about the heavy way Minghao is staring at him makes it feel less like he’s telling a joke at Mingyu’s expense than usual.

Minghao leans forward further, picking the tie up and wrapping it twice around his fist, his other hand planted on the bed just to the side of Mingyu’s neck, holding his weight up. The shift in his weight makes it obvious how embarrassingly excited Mingyu is, seeing how Minghao hasn’t actually done anything yet.

“Just tap my arm if you need me to stop, got it?” Minghao says, close enough for his breath to brush over Mingyu’s skin when he talks. Mingyu nods, his fingers worrying into the sheets.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, swallowing hard. Minghao’s brow furrows in focus, pulling the tie until the knot slips tight around Mingyu’s throat, the collar of his shirt digging into his skin. The pressure is only enough to make Mingyu’s throat feel a little tight, breath passing out of his mouth with a little groan.

He catches sight of the slight grin on Minghao’s face just before shutting his eyes, tilting his head back to expose his neck even more. Minghao hums and cinches the fabric a little tighter.

“That feel okay?” Minghao asks and Mingyu nods hard in response, his voice fluttering around uselessly in his chest with the rest of the air he can’t quite let go of. Minghao keeps it like that just until it starts to feel like Mingyu’s head might float away from his neck before releasing the pressure.

Mingyu sucks in two hard breaths and groans, lifting his hips up to grind his dick against the back of Minghao’s thigh. The tips of his fingers feel like they’re full of TV static, the same tingling feeling shooting up his arms whenever he twitches them.

He peels his eyes open when Minghao starts to pinch open the buttons of his shirt, opening his mouth to protest.

“It’s getting in my way,” Minghao says, pulling Mingyu’s tie out of the crisp white collar before settling it higher around his neck, just under his jaw. It feels a little more awkward, with his shirt half-open and his cock probably making a mess out of the inside of his Nice Underwear.

He sucks in another deep breath when Minghao twists the tie around his hand again, almost biting a hole through his lip in an effort to keep from making an embarrassing sound in response. Minghao’s mouth is set in a flat, tight line but the heat in the way he’s staring at Mingyu makes him feel like he’s going to melt straight through the bed any second. He groans or tries to, the sound only coming out as a pathetic wheeze of breath.

It’s a surprise when Minghao leans forward and hovers his face directly over Mingyu’s. For a second, Mingyu dimly thinks he might be going in for a kiss, but he stops just short. His free hand grasps Mingyu’s jaw, holding him there and opening his own mouth. For a moment, it doesn’t even click together properly in Mingyu’s brain what Minghao is doing— Minghao spits into his mouth and Mingyu’s constricted throat is already struggling to swallow before he really thinks about anything else.

When he does catch up, it’s so weirdly, unbearably hot to think about that Mingyu’s face burns for no reason. Minghao grins, closing the rest of the distance to kiss him properly.

Minghao releases the pressure a few seconds later, his long fingers pulling the knot away from the base of Mingyu’s throat. Mingyu groans, the sound getting slightly lost against Minghao’s lips, still trying fruitlessly to satisfy his burning need for some kind of relief against the back of Minghao’s thigh. Minghao pulls away with a grin on his face, rolling off of Mingyu and pulling his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor carelessly.

“Roll over on your side,” Minghao says before Mingyu can start complaining, climbing off the bed and getting rid of his pants. He manages to wiggle out of them more quickly than Mingyu could hope to get them off. Mingyu complies, rolling on his side and pulling one of Minghao’s pillows under his head, grinning a little.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, his voice coming out a little rough. Minghao glances over at him and smirks before yanking the now familiar drawer open, pawing through it for a moment before coming away with a bottle of lube that he drops on the bed next to Mingyu’s thigh.

He climbs back on the bed, laying behind Mingyu rather than facing him, his bare chest pressing into Mingyu’s back. Through the shirt, Mingyu can still feel the faint impression of Minghao’s piercings. Minghao drags a hand down Mingyu’s chest, picking open the rest of Mingyu’s buttons as he goes, breath tickling over the back of his neck.

Mingyu slides his hand over the outside of Minghao’s thigh in return, twisting to look back at him the best he can, still curious what exactly Minghao has in mind. He’s quickly distracted by Minghao’s hand curving around the bulge of his cock through his slacks, grinding his palm just under the sensitive ridge, making Mingyu press his face into the pillow with a whine.

He rolls his hips forward into Minghao’s hand, sighing at the welcome friction, forgetting for the moment that Minghao always seems to have something else in mind. His teeth scrape over the nape of Mingyu’s neck, digging them in and sucking a bruise where the collar of Mingyu’s shirt meets his throat.

Minghao pulls his hand away, dragging his tongue over the dark ring of teeth left behind on Mingyu’s skin before sitting up and pulling his slacks open, shoving them carelessly down his thighs along with his underwear. Mingyu is expecting Minghao’s hand around his cock but Minghao picks up the bottle instead, littering the back of Mingyu’s neck with kisses before grabbing the end of the tie and twisting it so it’s facing backwards.

“Do you want me to get you off with my fingers?” Minghao asks, sounding very much like he knows the answer to his own question.

Mingyu thinks about saying no for all of ten seconds, just to be obstinate. Then he nods his head, shifting his hips back toward Minghao.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing hard, trying to wet his dry throat.

“Good,” Minghao says, a hint of a grin still on his face, the cap of the bottle opening with a dry click. Mingyu turns his head to watch Minghao drizzle a generous amount over his fingers. His stomach tightens in anticipation, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Minghao’s other hand skims over his shoulder, settling in behind Mingyu once again. The cold touch of Minghao’s fingers against his rim makes Mingyu jump, his fingers curling tighter in the sheets.

Minghao strokes his fingers around Mingyu’s rim, teasing until Mingyu whines softly, pressing back. Minghao must decide to take pity on him, sliding one finger in slowly. His other hand wraps around the tie again, pulling it just hard enough to make the knot tight against the back of his neck. The pressure of the fabric isn’t enough to stop his breathing, just making the ragged pace of his breathing more obvious.

Mingyu rolls his hips back on Minghao’s finger, licking his lips and reaching back to grasp at one of his thighs. It feels less strange this time— having Minghao’s finger buried in him to the last knuckle, easier to adjust himself to.

“Ah. C’mon, I want—” Mingyu’s words choke off in a groan when Minghao presses another finger in, nipping at the back of his neck. He gives Mingyu another chance to adjust before fucking Mingyu in quick, harsh twists of his wrist. His fingers glance pact Mingyu’s prostate, never more than a little teasing press that makes Mingyu jerk and whimper each time.

Minghao curls his fingers in Mingyu’s hair, pulling his head back at an angle and pressing a messy kiss against his mouth. Mingyu presses back into Minghao’s chest, opening his legs further, trying to make the kiss easier. Minghao’s teeth dig into his lip, dragging the pads of his fingers over Mingyu’s prostate.

Mingyu groans, his legs curling toward his chest on instinct, dragging his nails along the sheets. Minghao slides his fingers away again, a little grin on his face when he looks down at Mingyu.

He’s half expecting Minghao to torment him, or get up and dig out some bizarre sex toy for Mingyu to try. But the grin on Minghao’s face wavers, his expression fissuring into something soft and open that sends Mingyu’s heart crashing against the inside of his ribs like it’s trying to escape.

It only lasts a few seconds before Minghao seems to realize it himself, tucking his face against the back of Mingyu’s shoulder and pushing both fingers in deep once more. Mingyu groans, wrapping his own fingers around his cock, using his thumb to spread the thick layer of precome gathering at the tip to make the slide of his hand easier.

Minghao is slower, less purposeful than he was last time he had his fingers buried in Mingyu’s ass. This time it isn’t a rush to open him up so they can do something else. Instead, Minghao is taking his time, fucking Mingyu with his fingers until his thighs are shaking.

He pushes a third finger in and the stretch makes Mingyu arch his back, rolling away from Minghao to press his forehead against the cooler fabric of the pillow. The pressure of the tie around his neck tightens when he wiggles away, surprising him enough to gasp, squeezing his fingers around his cock.

Minghao presses the pads of all three fingers against Mingyu’s prostate, keeping them there, his other hand gathering up the tie and pulling hard enough that Mingyu’s voice cracks when he tries to make a sound, making the air in his lungs useless.

Mingyu’s eyes flutter shut, his head crackling full of static when he comes. The orgasm sears white hot up his spine and for a moment he can barely even feel the rest of his body, all sense of his limbs fading.

He sucks in a deep breath as soon as Minghao lets go of the tie, still using his fingers to coax Mingyu through the orgasm. Mingyu shudders, melting into the bed, ignoring the sticky mess of come on his stomach, groaning weakly when Minghao’s fingers pull out.

Minghao laughs, probably just to himself, leaning over Mingyu and kissing the back of his neck.

“Why are you always trying to kill me?” Mingyu says, his complaint muffled into the pillow. Minghao laughs again, wiping his slick fingers off on Mingyu’s hip. Usually, Mingyu would complain but he doesn’t really have the energy yet.

“It’s entertaining,” Minghao says, sitting up and rolling Mingyu onto his back.

“Gimme a second,” Mingyu says, pulling the tie off and doing his best to catch his breath. Minghao doesn’t complain, stroking his clean fingers through Mingyu’s hair with a little hum.

“Want me to eat you out?” Mingyu asks, peeking one eye open after a moment and looking up at Minghao. He’s given up on not sounding overeager about it. At this point, it’s already been made abundantly clear that Mingyu would keep coming over for nothing other than the chance to devour Minghao’s cunt and get a half-assed handjob in exchange.

He’s just lucky that so far Minghao hasn’t decided to take advantage of that fact. Mingyu picks himself up, stretching his shoulders with a groan, kicking his slacks off but not bothering to get rid of his now wrinkled shirt. Minghao takes up the spot he was in, reclining against the pillows with Mingyu between his legs.

Minghao’s whole body is stretched out, long and pale and inviting and Mingyu leans over him, tracing the bones of his clavicle with his tongue, following down the line of his chest, biting at the soft skin just below his ribs. He’s less intent on leaving marks than Minghao is, one hand toying with his nipple, flicking the little silver ring and making Minghao jolt a little.

It would be wise, probably, to ask him when Seokmin is supposed to get back to keep him from coming back home to the two of them making any obvious, embarrassing sounds, but he doesn’t want Minghao to try and rush him along. So, he takes his time, dipping his tongue gently into Minghao’s naval, tasting the slightly sweat-sticky skin of his stomach.

Minghao sighs, wiggling slightly to get comfortable, stroking his fingers through Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu lifts his head, nuzzling into the touch of Minghao’s fingers, shutting his eyes for a second.

He’s probably just imagining it, but it feels like Minghao is more affectionate than usual— like the warm smile on his face while he watches Mingyu settling in between his skinny thighs could almost be called fond. Maybe it’s just Mingyu trying to see only what he wants to see. Telling himself he’s got a chance when in reality it’s clear he’s nowhere close.

But then again, maybe he’s not. Maybe the smile on Minghao’s face is really just meant for him and him alone.

Mingyu can’t help but dwell on it, no matter how much he tries not to, dragging his tongue over the crotch of Minghao’s boxer-briefs, wetting the dark fabric from the outside as well. Minghao hums a contented sound, spreading his legs wide apart and Mingyu puts both hands on his thighs, rubbing the firm muscle. He continues for a moment with lapping over the fabric covering Minghao’s pussy, happy to take his chance to tease a little bit in return.

He sits up, grabbing the elastic waist in his teeth and dragging it down and out of his way, making Minghao laugh softly. Mingyu pulls it off one of his legs, letting the fabric dangle over one of Minghao’s slender ankles, turning his attention back to Minghao’s now bare crotch in front of him.

Minghao’s cunt is wetter than Mingyu expects, flushed bright pink with blood and the way Minghao tilts his hips up slightly like he’s offering, makes Mingyu start to rethink just how fast he can get hard again. He lowers his head, pausing to use his thumbs to gently part Minghao’s lips, dragging his tongue up the slit. Minghao hisses, arching his back slightly, his nails scraping over Mingyu’s scalp.

Mingyu presses his chest fully into the bed, one hand gripping Minghao’s hip, the other still holding his pussy open to make it easier to trace with his tongue. He drags the tip of it in slow, increasingly tight circles around Minghao’s clit, never quite touching it directly. Minghao bites off a frustrated sigh, nudging Mingyu’s ribs with one of his knees.

Before Minghao has the chance to start complaining, Mingyu closes his lips around his clit, sucking on it until Minghao’s thighs jerk, all the muscles in his legs straining tight. He must have one hand pressed to his mouth because all the sounds he’s making are muffled. Mingyu releases his clit, dragging his tongue down to prod at Minghao’s hole, dipping the tip in slightly before returning his attention to lapping broad strokes over his slit.

Dimly, Mingyu can hear the sound of the heavy front door opening and then closing again. He stops, sitting up a little, and Minghao blinks his eyes open, tilting his head back with a groan.

“Seokmin,” he says, in one frustrated breath. It makes Mingyu grin a little, resting his cheek against Minghao’s thigh.

“Want me to stop?” Mingyu asks, resisting the urge to nibble on his thigh or do something else to distract Minghao.

Minghao shoots him a positively evil look, shaking his head. “No, just…”

He shakes his head, flopping back against the pillows and pressing the heel of his hand against his mouth. Mingyu takes this as his signal to continue, pressing his face between Minghao’s thighs once again and slowly pressing his tongue inside Minghao’s cunt. Minghao’s eyes flutter shut and then open again, returning to gripping at Mingyu’s hair, pulling him in closer.

Mingyu isn’t sure if he should be worried about Seokmin bursting in on them or not, so he just does his best to put it out of his mind and focus instead on fucking Minghao with his tongue. He stretches his jaw open wide, pushing it in as far as he can, staying like that until the hinge of his jaw starts to ache. Minghao rolls his hips back against Mingyu’s face, trying to increase the steady friction of Mingyu’s tongue teasing his inner walls. Mingyu pulls back, dragging his tongue over Minghao’s clit in long, slow strokes.

Minghao’s hand slips away from his mouth, stretching up behind his head to grab onto the headboard of his bed, arching his back further and squeezing his thighs around Mingyu’s head. It seems like all his muscles are quivering, groaning out loud when Mingyu’s hand drags over from his hip to use his thumb to rub Minghao’s clit.

“Ah, Mingyu. Shit…” Minghao says, his body twisting like he’s trying to get away. Mingyu slips his tongue inside again, rubbing Minghao’s clit in slow circles, using just enough pressure to continue teasing him. Minghao groans, his eyes shuttering closed again, using his grip on Mingyu’s hair to pull him closer.

He presses his thumb down more firmly, dragging his tongue up the soft crease of Minghao’s thigh. Minghao’s body curves, looking for a second like he’s going to lift off the bed in an effort to push his hips up into Mingyu’s mouth, his head falling back with a faltering sound. 

The bed creaks under them and Mingyu pushes his tongue inside Minghao’s cunt again, curling it and using the tip to stroke along the silky walls of his pussy. Minghao mumbles out an inelegant stream of curses, half of them getting lost between his breaths, shaking as he tips over the edge. Mingyu is hardly bothered by the mess on his face, lapping up the excess with almost too much enthusiasm, moving his tongue in broad strokes until Minghao groans softly and shoves his head away.

Mingyu sits up with a little grin on his face and Minghao looks up at him with half-lidded eyes, the barest hint of a grin on his face.

“You look so dumb,” Minghao says, slow and warm, reaching a hand out to pull Mingyu closer, grabbing his shoulder. Maybe Mingyu should feel insulted by that but his heart seizes up in his chest instead.

“Most people appreciate it when someone gets them off,” Mingyu says, settling in next to Minghao, still in his wrinkled dress shirt, stroking his fingers over Minghao’s defined ribs.

“Who says I don’t appreciate it?” Minghao says, turning to look at Mingyu with a smile. “I just think there’s no reason for _you_ to look so excited about it. You’re like a dog.”

Mingyu laughs, ducking his head toward his chest. He leans in and licks a wet strip up Minghao’s cheek, just because he can.

“At least I know where your mouth has been,” Minghao grumbles, but his lips are titled up in a smile, wiping his cheek clean with a shake of his head.

**{* * *}**

**(smash bro~ <3):** _I’m going to need a new roommate soon_

The message from Minghao catches Mingyu somewhat by surprise, but it makes him smile anyway, setting the book he’s supposed to be reading to the side.

 **(mingyu):** _is he still singing??_

 **(smash bro~ <3):** _non stop. He’s gonna lose his voice before he has his stupid evaluation_

Mingyu giggles, combing his fingers through his hair and looking around his otherwise empty room. Hansol is gone for one of the tutoring sessions he doesn’t actually need with a guy Mingyu isn’t sure he’s realized he has a crush on. The rest of the house is fairly quiet, almost unusually so. Finals are starting to catch up with all of them at this point and once Wonwoo starts sleeping for only four hours a night they all try to stay well out of his way.

 **(mingyu):** _If you need to study you can come over here_

 **(mingyu):** _only if we really study, tho_

Maybe it’s just his nerves, but it seems like a long time before Minghao actually writes him anything back.

 **(smash bro~ <3):** _I can go to the library so you don’t have to explain anything_

The answer makes Mingyu frown, feeling like a boulder has settled in the pit of his stomach. Is that what Minghao thinks of him? That he’s so worried what other people might think that he doesn’t even want them to be seen together? He hasn’t really tried to keep any of his activities a secret, not that it’d be very easy, to begin with since Hansol caught them making out the night they met, anyway.

But in the end, as much Mingyu wants everyone he meets to like him, he would rather spend time with Minghao than people who would judge either of them on such a superficial basis.

 **(mingyu):** _my place is closer, right? Just come here. No one will bother you, promise._

 **(smash bro~ <3):** _not even you?_

 **(mingyu):** _I have work to do too!!!_

 **(smash bro~ <3):** _fine. I’ll see you in 10._

Mingyu is suddenly even more glad that Hansol isn’t around to see him grinning like an idiot at his phone, leaning his cheek on one hand, trying to swallow down the sudden butterflies in his stomach. It’s borderline pathetic how much he wants to just spend time with Minghao— even when there’s nothing involved but sitting in the same room to do coursework in relative quiet. He’s long past the point where the sex is the only thing that matters to him— he’s moved on to constantly craving for Minghao’s attention instead.

Which, as it turns out, is far worse.

He waits five minutes before going downstairs to hang around in the living room, waiting for Minghao to show up.

He can’t exactly be _surprised_ when Seungcheol comes drifting into the room as well, seeing as he lives there, but it does make Mingyu’s stomach twist up in a stupid, funny kinda way.

“Didn’t you say you were working all afternoon?” Seungcheol asks, lifting one eyebrow and shoving Mingyu’s legs out of the way to flop over on the couch.

At least being scolded about his schoolwork is normal.

“I have someone coming over to study with me,” Mingyu says, lifting his shoulders in a little shrug.

Seungcheol hums, his attention getting pulled away by his phone. He doesn’t say anything else before Minghao taps out a few nervous knocks on the door and Mingyu bolts too quickly up off the couch, wrenching the door open with a grin on his face.

Minghao obviously puts more thought into his outfits than anyone else Mingyu knows— even when finals have reduced everyone else to variations of the same half-cleaned set of clothes for days on end. Today it’s a worn black band shirt over a black turtleneck with sleeves that nearly cover his fingers and jeans with almost shockingly few rips in them. His hair is a little ruffled and he has a pair of glasses resting right on the tip of his nose.

He looks cute. Mingyu wants to say something about it but he’s pretty sure that’s over the line of friendship and he doesn’t want the first thing out of his mouth to be embarrassing.

“Hey,” he says, swinging the door shut behind Minghao, letting him step inside and drop his shoes next to the ever-mounting pile that sits by the door until Mingyu sorts them back into order again.

“This place looks better when there’s not alcohol on every surface,” Minghao says, looking around with a little laugh. He stops when he catches sight of Seungcheol looking at the two of them with an almost devious smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says when Minghao has been staring at him for a good few seconds, his mouth turning down into a frown. Minghao nods his head but doesn’t say anything else. Mingyu watches one of his hands curl into a fist around the strap of his bag. “You’re in Soonyoung’s dance crew, right?”

“Yeah,” Minghao says, his voice slightly sharp. “Minghao.”

“Cool. I’m Seungcheol.” If he notices the sudden tension on Minghao’s face, he doesn’t say anything about it. He just smiles in his most disarming, boyish way, dimples and all, and turns his attention back to Mingyu.

“Make sure you keep it down, yeah? I think Wonu’s finally asleep.” His voice is casual, but Mingyu knows him well enough to sense the underlying mischief and it makes his neck burn.

So much for not being embarrassing right off the bat.

“We’re just studying,” he says, slightly more defensively than he would like, nodding Minghao up the stairs ahead of him. He twists to shoot Seungcheol a glare before he follows along, only managing to make him fall back on the couch, giggling.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says after a moment, following Minghao up the stairs and into his room. “Seungcheol’s the frat president… he sticks his nose in everything.”

Minghao hums, his lips pressed into a flat line, and Mingyu has to swallow down the urge to keep apologizing.

They end up taking up most of the space in the room, with Mingyu sitting once again at his desk and Minghao on the floor, leaning his back against the bed, chewing idly on the side of his thumb while he stares at his laptop.

He expected the silence to feel sort of awkward, especially after running into Seungcheol, but the way Minghao grabs one of Mingyu’s pillows to stuff behind his back and makes himself comfortable sets Mingyu a little more at ease.

“Do you mind if I play some music?” He asks after a bit, adjusting his glasses and looking up at Mingyu. Mingyu can see from the angle he’s at that there isn’t even glass in the frames. It makes him smile for no real reason, thinking about Minghao specifically picking out the empty wire frames to go with his outfit.

“Go for it,” Mingyu says, smiling.

“I won’t wake anyone up?” Minghao asks, a crooked smile on his face. Mingyu groans, his cheeks heating up again, shaking his head.

“Wonwoo sleeps like the dead,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to even begin to explain what Seungcheol actually meant. He’s not sure he could even get through it without dying of sheer mortification.

It doesn’t matter that Seokmin _definitely_ heard the two of them the other day, or that he decided to text Mingyu not only to let him know that he overheard but to congratulate him for “a job well done.”

Luckily, Minghao decides not to ask anything further. He puts on a song Mingyu doesn’t recognize, humming softly along. All in all, it’s more relaxing than Mingyu expects. Eventually, his awareness of Minghao sitting in the room with him fades into the background of his mind— not gone but not taking up any space either.

That only lasts so long. Minghao is ultimately more interesting than any of Mingyu’s homework and it’s maybe an hour before Mingyu leaves his place at the desk, dragging his notebook along with him to settle on the floor next to Minghao.

Minghao glances up at him, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smile. “Did you finish already?”

“I’m still studying,” Mingyu says, staring at the notebook without really see anything. “You should be too.”

He can’t help but glance at what Minghao is doing on the computer— clicking on different dance videos with the music muted, watching clips of himself or Soonyoung or a few people Mingyu doesn’t recognize going through different routines.

It’s impressive— Mingyu gives up on pretending to look at his notes to watch the different snippets of Minghao dancing instead. He’s never actually seen Minghao dance; since they aren’t supposed to be messing around in each other’s lives, Minghao hasn’t invited Mingyu to watch him perform and Mingyu always felt too awkward to beg Soonyoung to give him the information for the dance shows. If Minghao wanted him there, Mingyu’s pretty sure he would ask.

“You’re really good,” Mingyu says, leaning his cheek on Minghao’s shoulder now. Minghao doesn’t scold him or shove him off. In fact, it seems like he sinks down a little lower to let Mingyu lean on him more comfortably.

“I’m okay,” Minghao says, lifting his free shoulder in a small shrug. “I used to be better… I hurt my shoulder a few months ago and it’s still kinda stiff.”

Mingyu can’t tell the difference in his movements but he sits up anyway, looking at Minghao with a little frown. “Is it okay now?”

“Just sore sometimes,” Minghao says, rolling the shoulder Mingyu had his head on. “More than usual lately, I guess. We’ve been practicing a lot.”

“You should let me rub it for you,” Mingyu says, the words popping out of his mouth before he even tries to stop them.

“Didn’t you promise we’d actually be studying?” Minghao says, lifting his eyebrows with a little grin. “ _And_ your president told us to keep quiet.”

“I don’t mean that!” Mingyu says, his face heating up. “For real. I’m really, really good. I bet it’ll feel better.”

Minghao purses his lips for a second before setting his computer to the side with a sigh and a nod, giving his shoulder another roll.

“Okay fine,” Minghao says, pushing himself up to sit on the bed instead. “But get fresh and I’m leaving. You’ve got ten minutes.”

Mingyu is pretty sure the _get fresh_ comment is a joke, but he’s still careful in settling himself on his knees behind Minghao.

“It’s your left one, right?” Mingyu asks, running the tips of his fingers down Minghao’s back. Even through the layers of his two shirts, Mingyu can feel the slight bumps of his spine.

“Yeah,” Minghao says, taking the glasses off after a moment and setting them to the side, carefully folded in spite of the fact that there’s no glass in them to break.

Mingyu clears his throat, doing his best to remind himself that there’s nothing weird about this. It’s just a shoulder rub from one friend to another. He puts his hands lightly on Minghao’s shoulders, pressing his thumbs in and rubbing slow circles in his back, following the line of his neck. It feels like he should be saying something, but he doesn’t want to sound like a weird hairdresser trying to make small talk, so he just says quiet.

He digs his fingers into the back of Minghao’s left shoulder, pressing hard into the knotted muscle and trying to work it out with his hands. Minghao groans, his head tipping forward. The sound feels weirdly, intimately familiar and Mingyu finds himself blushing, pressing his thumbs close together and digging them into Minghao’s back.

“Doesn’t hurt, right?” Mingyu asks after a moment, wishing his throat wasn’t so embarrassingly dry. He’s really barely even touching Minghao— rubbing his back while he has two shirts on, but his mind is still racing to uncomfortable territory.

“Feels good,” Minghao says, his voice just a shade lower than usual.

Mingyu isn’t really thinking about Minghao’s shoulder pain anymore. As much as he tries, he can’t ignore the way Minghao seems to melt back into the touch of his hands, or the low groan that slips out of his mouth when Mingyu’s hands slide a little lower, pressing under the jutting bone of his shoulder blade. Mingyu is left wrestling with the impossible temptation to slide his hands under Minghao’s sweater and touch his skin.

Hansol’s miraculously bad sense of timing holds out— he’s perfectly on time to save Mingyu from even more bad choices of his own making. The door swings open and Minghao jolts, all the relaxation carefully kneaded into his muscles gone once again.

For his part, Hansol doesn’t seem to notice either of them. He has his headphones on still, fingers tapping the rhythm of whatever he’s listening to on one of his legs, bobbing his head gently.

Mingyu hangs his head forward a little and breathes out a sigh, hoping Minghao doesn’t notice it. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or frustrated at the interruption.

It takes Hansol a long thirty seconds before he looks up and notices not one but two people sitting on Mingyu’s bed. He blinks once, pulls his headphones off to rest around his neck, then blinks again.

“Oh, hey,” Hansol says, a wide smile spreading on his face. “You’re that guy from the beginning of the year.”

Minghao looks like he might be considering murder, but Mingyu is pretty sure he’s just embarrassed.

“Minghao,” he says, his voice sharp-edged. Hansol isn’t bothered, dropping his bag at his desk and immediately seeming to lose interest in whatever it is the two of them were doing before he showed up.

Mingyu is grateful for that at least. If it were anyone else, they’d take the chance to mercilessly tease Mingyu for all it’s worth. But Hansol has always been less concerned about butting his nose in. He’s a good listener, but unless Mingyu brings something up first he’s just as likely to keep his thoughts to himself.

Reluctantly, he leans away from Minghao’s back, clearing his throat and trying to diffuse some of the tension from the air. “Hopefully that, um, feels better.”

“It’s fine,” Minghao says, still casting nervous glances in Hansol’s direction. “I should go home.”

“We can go back to studying,” Mingyu says, too quick like a child denied a favorite toy. Maybe Minghao is still worried about breaking the rules he set at the beginning of their relationship, but the time that Mingyu has spent with him and Seokmin in their apartment already took care of that.

“You don’t gotta leave for me,” Hansol says, sorting through a stack of papers on his desk that Mingyu only just finished putting in order two days ago.

He cleans when he gets nervous or stressed out— he’s pretty sure that’s the whole reason Hansol picked him to room with in the first place. “Coups wants me to go to some event with him.”

“Do you even remember what it is?” Mingyu asks, leaving off pouting in Minghao’s direction for just a moment.

Hansol pauses, lifting his head to glare at the ceiling for just a moment before laughing. “No idea.”

“I really don’t have to stay,” Minghao says, lower this time, though he doesn’t a little less tense at least. Mingyu just wants to go back to rubbing his shoulders, maybe until Minghao gets really relaxed and decides he wants to take a catnap in Mingyu’s bed.

“You’ll have the place to yourself, I think,” Hansol says, finally finding the page he’s looking for, leaving the rest scattered around the desk. “Unless Wonwoo is still asleep.”

He stuffs the page in his bag and seems to actually focus on Minghao for the first time. The same smile is there on his face still, broad and friendly.

“Gender is a construct anyway,” he says, and Mingyu wants to melt straight through the floor and hide. “If anyone gives you shit they’ll have to listen to Wonwoo read all his articles on human sexuality again.”

To his surprise, Minghao laughs, pitching to the side and leaning his weight against Mingyu to support him. Mingyu laughs with him, a little more nervously, one hand spread on Minghao’s back for a little bit of extra support. Hansol seems pleased with himself, putting his headphones back on and waving as he lets himself out.

Maybe Mingyu won’t even nag him about his desk for a few days as a thank you.

“I thought it was a secret,” Minghao says, maybe ten minutes later, when they’re both back on the floor with their books.

“What secret?” Mingyu says, pulling his attention away from the importance of understanding cost/benefit analysis to look at Minghao instead.

“You and me,” Minghao says, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t think you’d want anyone to know about it.”

“Was it supposed to be a secret? I didn’t… I mean I don’t come home and brag about my sex life or anything,” Mingyu says, rubbing the back of his neck, his words coming out more quickly than he means them to.

“No,” Minghao says, frowning. He sounds annoyed? Frustrated? Mingyu isn’t sure. “You let your friends know you’re sleeping with _me.”_

“Oh,” Mingyu says, catching up to what he means. “Yeah. I don’t care about stuff like that.”

Minghao’s lips draw tight for a moment, looking at Mingyu in a way he’s not sure exactly how to interpret. After a moment, the look fades and Minghao turns his attention back to his computer

“You should come watch the final dance show,” he says, brushing the previous subject away like cobwebs. “You haven’t been to any of the other ones yet, right?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, hoping the giddiness doesn’t show in his voice. It’s a wasted effort; he’s never exactly been the best at hiding how he feels.

Minghao glances over at him and smiles. “The final one is the coolest anyway. It’ll be a good time.”

“I’ll be there,” Mingyu says, sinking down to lean his shoulder gently against Minghao’s, hiding his smile behind his notebook as best he can.

**{* * *}**

True to his word, Mingyu does go to the final dance show. He doesn’t have any other experience to compare it to, but Mingyu is inclined to believe Minghao when he says it’s the coolest. He doesn’t really know anything about dance, but he’s pretty sure Minghao is great at it and he’s quick to tell him as much as soon as he comes out after the show ends.

Which is how he ends up going along with Minghao to the party the dance crew apparently always throws to celebrate after.

He’s not there as Minghao’s date, of course, just a friend that got dragged along, so he tries not to let it bother him when he loses track of Minghao after a little while. The music is loud, and Soonyoung drifted by a bit ago and made sure Mingyu had a drink, and Wonwoo has always said that Mingyu has never really met a stranger in his life.

That’s true tonight, it seems because the girl he’s talking to seems plenty friendly. Jihyo is petite and pretty, with her chestnut hair tied up at the back of her head and loose, bright colored clothes. She has a nice smile and she laughs even when Mingyu is pretty sure the things he’s saying aren’t funny.

“You’re not one of the crew members, are you?” She asks, her head leaning back slightly to size Mingyu up. He laughs, his shoulders slumping forward a little, giving in to the urge to make himself seem smaller when he can. “I feel like I would’ve noticed you.”

That’s a nice way to put it, at least.

“I’m not,” Mingyu says, tucking one hand in his pocket and shifting the other nervously around his drink. “I’m not that um, coordinated.”

“Does that mean you don’t dance at all?” She asks, throwing in a little flutter of her eyelashes.

Mingyu’s mouth goes dry, but it has little to do with the alcohol or the embarrassment that’s sure to follow him if he actually does venture out and dance. He resists the urge to lift his head and scan around for Minghao.

It was Minghao who said he wanted no commitments and no labels, after all. There’s no reason for Mingyu to feel guilty for someone asking him to dance. The only thing he’s betraying is his own foolhardy heart.

He’s over thinking things anyway— Jihyo is just a nice girl who wanted to see him make an idiot of himself, not trying to trick him into a marriage. Mingyu finishes his drink in two large swallows before nodding his head, setting the cup on a nearby table and smiling.

“I can try,” Mingyu says hoping he doesn’t seem like a huge idiot for having to think so hard about it. “No promises, though.”

Jihyo laughs, setting her down drink down and lacing her fingers through Mingyu’s. Her hands are small and so delicate that Mingyu feels like he could close his fingers around her fist and obscure it entirely.

As it turns out, he hasn’t had enough to drink to properly turn off his brain and just have fun for the sake of it. His limbs are less cumbersome than usual, and Jihyo herself seems like a perfectly good dancer, but Mingyu can’t help the way it feels like there’s a heavy weight rolling around in his stomach.

It only gets worse when he sees Minghao’s face somewhere in the crowd, looking straight back at him, frowning. It nearly makes Mingyu stumble and lose his fitting, surprised by the intensity of Minghao’s stare.

Before Mingyu has the chance to extract himself, Minghao is already vanishing into the crowd and Mingyu’s stomach sinks even further. He does his best to swallow down all his nerves, pulling his hand away from Jihyo’s and giving her a small smile.

“I think my friend needs me,” he says, stumbling away even though he’s not sure she really heard what he said. Either way, she doesn’t follow after him, leaving Mingyu to push his way through the crush of people, trying vainly to catch up with Minghao.

He ends up outside, his long legs making it easier to catch up, crossing the old wooden boards of the porch and reaching out to tap Minghao’s shoulder.

“Are you leaving?” He asks, just a little bit out of breath.

“Maybe,” Minghao says, stopping but not turning around. Mingyu shifts awkwardly in place, wondering if he should try to circle around in front of Minghao or just let him be.

“Um, can I walk with you?” Mingyu says, his hand hovering in the air between them.

Minghao sighs, his shoulders slumping as he turns around, looking up at Mingyu with a frown. “I don’t feel like staying.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, dropping his hand to shove it in his pocket. “I can walk home with you. Or we could go get some food or something.”

“Just go back inside,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes now. “You were busy with someone else anyway.”

The sting of his voice settles in Mingyu’s chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows knitting together. “I was just having a good time.”

“Good,” Minghao says, grinding the word out between his teeth. “Don’t let me get in your way, then.”

“I came to hang out with you,” Mingyu says, tucking his shoulders in a little more. He’s not sure how he suddenly became the bad guy in this situation.

“Fine,” Minghao says, his voice still flinty. “Come with me then.”

He’s still angry— challenging Mingyu like he’s sure Mingyu won’t go along with it.

Mingyu huffs, nodding his head once. “Fine. Where are you going?”

“Home,” Minghao says, walking down the rest of the stairs without waiting for Mingyu.

Mingyu follows him anyway, trying not to feel like a scolded dog.

**{* * *}**

If anything, Minghao’s attitude only seems to get worse on the short walk back to his apartment. He doesn’t say anything, ignoring Mingyu’s few feeble attempts at making conversation.

He shoves the door shut with his elbow, ignoring the loud bang of it against the frame, kicking his shoes in a messy pile before stepping so his chest is pressing against Mingyu’s. He backs Mingyu up against the couch, staring at him with a frown for a moment before pulling Mingyu down into a kiss.

Confused as he is, it’s embarrassing how easy Mingyu still goes along. He opens his mouth for the prodding of Minghao’s tongue, grabbing onto his slender hips to try and better support his weight. Minghao’s aggressive attitude bleeds into his kissing; his teeth pull on Mingyu’s lower lip until he whimpers and his fingers pull the hair at the back of Mingyu’s head, making it even harder for him to resist.

Not that Mingyu is really trying to get anywhere. He pulls Minghao tighter against him, breath coming out with a shiver attached to it. He’s not sure exactly what he did to get Minghao so worked up, and it doesn’t seem like Minghao particularly wants to talk it out. That’s okay, though— all their best communication so far has been through sex anyway. There’s no reason this should be any different.

His shoes end up left scattered in the hallway when Minghao drags him off to his room, the two of them stumbling over each other. Minghao seems determined for them to stay attached the whole time— dragging his nails over the back of Mingyu’s neck and planting biting, open-mouthed kisses all over his neck.

Mingyu stumbles his way into the room and manages to land on the bed, making the old frame creak loudly.

“Um,” Mingyu says, swallowing hard as Minghao climbs on top of him, leaning his head back and trying to catch his breath. “What about Seokmin?”

“Don’t care,” Minghao says, his teeth dragging down the tendon of Mingyu’s neck. Mingyu shivers, one hand spread wide over Minghao’s back, sliding up his shirt and stroking the bare skin underneath.

“Take your shirt off,” Minghao says, sitting up enough to let Mingyu do as he’s told. Mingyu swallows hard, nodding and yanking it over his head, letting it fall away in the darkness. Minghao grinds his hips down against Mingyu’s, making Mingyu tip his head back and groan.

One of Minghao’s hands drags across the side of his neck, pressing against where he must have already left a bruise, making the spot throb dully. Mingyu bites his lip, trying not to groan out loud again, his hands sliding up the back of Minghao’s thighs to squeeze around his ass, pulling their hips together more firmly.

Minghao hums in the back of his throat, his back arching as he shifts his knees wider apart and rolls their hips together at an angle that seems to work especially well for him, his lips slightly parted. It’s too dark in the room to make out the details of his face well but Mingyu doesn’t think either of them are going to be getting up to turn on the light any time soon. Minghao puts both hands on his shoulders, pushing Mingyu back against the bed.

Mingyu falls back, sliding his hands up Minghao’s sides and pulling his shirt along with them. Minghao ducks his head slightly, making it easier to tug off all the way, looking down at Mingyu with his brow furrowed. His eyes are sharp, the weight of his gaze making Mingyu feel stripped down to the nerves; twitching like an exposed nerve.

It must take Minghao a moment to decide what he’s doing, because his heavy stare blinks away and he leans over Mingyu, yanking open the lower drawer of his nightstand and digging in it for a moment. Mingyu doesn’t try to guess what he might be pulling out— it seems to be endlessly full of surprises anyway. He uses the chance instead to press his mouth to the lines of Minghao’s stomach, tracing the slight definition of his muscles, tasting the salt of his skin.

Whatever Minghao drops next to his head is much lighter than Mingyu was expecting, barely making any sound at all when it hits the bed. Mingyu has one hand on Minghao’s back, holding him where he is, mouth sliding lower, almost to the edge of his pants.

It’s a surprise when Minghao’s fingers knit in his hair to push his head away, rather than pull it in closer. Mingyu whines in soft disappointment, looking up at Minghao with his lower lip stuck out in a pout.

“You don’t want me to eat you out?” He asks, sounding exactly as dismayed as he feels. Minghao’s lips twitch up, almost like he’s going to smile, before settling in a flat line again.

“No,” he says, pulling Mingyu’s hand away and pinning his wrist over his head. When he lets go, Mingyu starts to move again, planning on reaching out and touching him once more, only to have Minghao grab his arm once more and put it back in the same spot. Minghao’s eyebrows raise slightly, pressing down just a little more, and Mingyu swallows as he gets the hint.

This time when Minghao lets go, the only thing Mingyu does is bring his other arm up to join the first, both wrists laying over his head, fingers curled into loose fists.

“I’m gonna ride you,” Minghao says, his voice low, the sound of it scraping down Mingyu’s spine. “And you’re going to be a good boy for me and stay just like that.”

Mingyu’s stomach tightens around nothing and he has to bite down on his lower lip, trying hard not to whimper.

“Got it?” Minghao asks, dragging his blunt nails down the center of Mingyu’s chest. 

“Yeah.” Mingyu nods, his back lifting slightly to prolong the touch, pulling a shallow, shaking breath into his lungs.

He turns his head to see what Minghao grabbed from the drawer— a short string of condoms in bright plastic packaging. For a second Mingyu is almost surprised that it’s not some sort of restraint, but it isn’t exactly like he needs one. He can already keep Mingyu in place with the weight of his words alone.

Minghao lifts off of Mingyu, pulling the button of his jeans open and wiggling them off his hips. Mingyu wants to reach out and touch him— to hold one of his hips or stroke his thigh or put his mouth on one of Minghao’s hard nipples. But as much as he wants all of those things he wants to do as Minghao told him even more. 

Glad as he is that he doesn’t have to admit it out loud, Mingyu _wants_ to be good for Minghao. Minghao’s hand slides between them, curving around the swell of Mingyu’s cock in his jeans, pressing the heel of his hand against the crown of Mingyu’s cock until he hisses. His fingers curl into fists, trying to stave off the urge to reach out, to do anything to move things along.

Minghao’s other hand is resting on the center of Mingyu’s chest, bracing his weight there. He pulls his hand away from Mingyu’s dick only for his fingers to slip between his own legs, dragging his fingers along his slit. Mingyu lifts his head, straining forward as much as he can without pulling away from the bed, his lower lip trapped between his teeth.

“Stay there,” Minghao says, catching Mingyu before he even breaks the rules. Mingyu lays his head back with a little huff, watching Minghao’s fingers catch in the waist of his underwear, pulling them off as well. Mingyu bites the inside of his cheek until his mouth tastes metallic and Minghao drags his fingers through his folds.

Above the harsh shake of his own breathing, Mingyu can hear the slick sound of Minghao’s fingers teasing around his hole. Minghao leans forward a little more, his lips parted around a sigh and the visual makes Mingyu whine, pushing his hips up to try and rub his cock against the back of Minghao’s thigh. Minghao ignores him for a moment, groaning softly, working two fingers in and out of himself slowly.

“Are you not having fun?” Minghao says, his eyes hanging half-lidded. Mingyu can’t help the pout on his face, his eyes darting down to catch Minghao’s fingers pulling away from between his legs, the tips of them shining wet even in the relative darkness of the room.

Mingyu opens his mouth to bite out a complaint in return only to find Minghao’s fingers pressing his lips. He leans forward without thinking, closing his mouth around them and sucking the sticky fluids off of them. Minghao hums, his chest pressing into Mingyu’s now, their faces close together.

He pulls his fingers away and Mingyu sits up just enough to press a messy kiss to the tips of them before they’re out of reach. Something in Minghao’s expression fissures for a second, his eyes going softer, more open, the corners of his lips twitching almost into a smile.

“Fine,” he says, sitting up on his knees once again. He jerks Mingyu’s jeans open with quick, confident fingers and Mingyu lifts his hips enough to let Minghao pull both them and his boxers down below his ass, his cock bouncing out to smack wetly against the bottom of his stomach. Mingyu’s hips jerk slightly and Minghao looks for a second like he’s biting back a laugh, his fingers ghosting over Mingyu’s skin.

It only takes a few seconds for Minghao to regain his composure but it makes Mingyu smile as well. He likes the reminder that Minghao— the boy that he has a heart-stopping crush on— is still around as well, not just Minghao, Sexy Unattached Dom. Minghao reaches out and grabs the condoms, tearing the one on the end off and peeling the package open with his fingers. He wraps one hand around Mingyu’s cock, stroking it slowly, making Mingyu cant up into the touch with a groan.

“You’re being so good, aren’t you?” He asks, his voice hushed. Mingyu nods, whining softly when Minghao’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock. He can’t stop himself from shuddering, his legs sliding uselessly over the sheets, the soft praise of Minghao’s voice sinking through his pores and under his skin.

“I want you to stay just like that,” he says, releasing Mingyu’s cock to roll the condom over it. His fingers wander over Mingyu’s hips before he plants his palms on the bed on either side of Mingyu’s ribs to support his weight. He lines his hips up with Mingyu’s, his lips parting in a low groan as he slides down.

It takes the full force of Mingyu’s will not to buck his hips up into the silky weight of Minghao’s cunt. He tilts his head back, eyes shutting, fingers knotting into the sheets over his head to try and hold his entire body still. Minghao grunts when he slides down all the way, his weight balanced between his palms and his knees denting into the bed. He grinds his hips in a slow circle and Mingyu forces himself to open his eyes again.

Minghao grins crookedly at him, rolling his hips experimentally and sighing out another small sound. With all the presence of mind he has less, Mingyu thinks that Minghao might have devised the best worst torture ever. Being trapped in the tight heat of his pussy is incredible, but Mingyu is still shaking with the need to put his hands on Minghao or kiss him, or _move._ Minghao seems to realize it as well, sliding his hands over Mingyu’s chest, stopping to roll the bud of Mingyu’s nipple under his thumb, lifting his hips up slowly.

“Ah, fuck,” Minghao groans, dropping his weight down until Mingyu’s cock is buried all the way inside of him again. Mingyu might be coming apart at the seams, squeezing his fingers around the sheets until his knuckles go white, the muscles in his arms shaking.

If Minghao takes any notice of this, it doesn’t show on his face. He adjusts his legs before rolling his hips more confidently, leaving just the head of Mingyu’s cock still squeezed inside of him before sliding down to the hilt once again. He builds his pace up slowly, nails scraping over Mingyu’s ribs, their hips slapping together.

Mingyu groans, the sound almost getting lost in the frantic protesting of Minghao’s bed frame, gritting his teeth together in a hard line. It probably shouldn’t make the whole thing hotter for him— the way Minghao is bouncing on his cock without paying any real attention to him at all. It’s bizarrely sexy, and it only makes Mingyu want to earn Minghao’s attention by doing as he’s told that much more

Minghao leans over him, still rolling his hips in quick, sharp strokes, his lips hovering directly over Mingyu’s. His grin gets wider, leaning back when Mingyu leans up to try and steal a kiss. 

“Minghao,” Mingyu whines at being denied, giving Minghao his best attempt at puppy eyes given the situation. He’s not sure if it actually works or if Minghao was planning on taking pity on him already, but either way, Minghao presses a harsh, messy kiss against Mingyu’s mouth, reaching up to grab hold of one of his long arms, pulling until it’s wrapped around his waist.

“Go on,” Minghao says, his mouth still pressed against Mingyu’s. “Fuck me. Make me feel good.”

Mingyu, on the verge of climbing clean out of his own skin, doesn’t need to be told twice. He sits up, pulling Minghao tight against his chest and planting his feet on the bed, using the leverage to drive his hips up. He’s off of the rhythm Minghao has set but he doesn’t care, wrapping both arms around Minghao’s back and trying to touch as much skin as he can. Minghao groans, his mouth close to Mingyu’s ear, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers sliding in his hair.

He pulls enough that it stings and Mingyu hisses, fucking up into Minghao like he’s been denied the chance his entire life. Minghao’s nails slide over his scalp, his voice rising in pitch. Mingyu presses a series of messy kisses to the side of his neck, not really focused on anything other than chasing the blinding promise of getting both of them off.

Minghao pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against Mingyu’s, his slender chest heaving as he tries to pull enough air into his lungs.

“Shit, just like that,” he says, nails digging lines into Mingyu’s shoulders, grinding his hips down on each thrust. Mingyu, just for a second, manages to catch and hold onto Minghao’s gaze, all his insides turning molten and soft when Minghao smiles.

The moment breaks just as fast, with Minghao arching his back and dropping one hand off of Mingyu’s shoulders to rub at his clit unevenly, biting his lip in a futile effort to stem the long series of whimpers it produces. Mingyu tilts his head, kissing Minghao’s neck, the line of his jaw, the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck,” Minghao hisses, his mouth hanging open now. “Good— good boy… I’m almost—”

Minghao presses his face into the side of Mingyu’s neck, biting the sweat-slick junction of his neck and shoulder, teeth sinking in until it stings. The sound he makes when he comes is muffled, his nails dragging thin welts down Mingyu’s shoulder.

That, along with an encouraging mumble of his name against his shoulder, is all it takes for Mingyu to tip over the edge as well. His whole body curves toward Minghao, like a plant growing toward a window, trying to press their skin together everywhere he can, rolling his hips up until all his nerves are jagged with the overload of sensations.

He flops back against the bed, fighting to keep his eyes open, huffing out softly when Minghao’s weight lands on top of him after letting Mingyu’s cock slide out.

For awhile, the room is quiet save for the two of them trying to catch their breath. One of Minghao’s fingers traces the deep scores left by his teeth and Mingyu does his best to put his melted brain back together.

“Do you want me to leave?” Mingyu asks once he’s able to string words together again.

“No,” Minghao answers, so softly it’s almost swallowed up by the darkness.

**{* * *}**

Things are both better and worse than Mingyu is expecting when he wakes up.

Better: Minghao didn’t kick him onto the floor in the middle of the night— in fact, Minghao is laying on his chest, fingers hooked around Mingyu’s shoulder, their legs tangled together. He’s not hung over and it seems like he didn’t pull a muscle or say anything embarrassing in his sleep.

Worse: He’s sore, sticky, and aching to stroke his fingers through Minghao’s hair while he sleeps. Seokmin definitely heard him getting his brains fucked out in the middle of the night and probably will show up in ten minutes to rate Mingyu’s performance.

Mingyu tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, wondering if it’s somehow possible to just fall back asleep.

“Has anyone ever told you that you think loud?” Minghao says, his voice still fuzzy with sleep. Mingyu jolts in surprise, his eyes snapping open again and heat flooding into his cheeks.

“No,” he says after a moment.

“It woke me up,” Minghao says, detangling himself from Mingyu and sitting up slowly. He groans, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back.

Mingyu sits up slowly as well, pushing his messy bangs away from his face and hoping his hips cooperate when he tries actually standing up.

“So?” Minghao says, sounding more amused than anyone just waking up has the right to, looking at Mingyu with his hair still hanging in his face, fluffy and messy from sleep. “What is it?”

There are a thousand better times to have this conversation— pretty much any time where they aren’t both naked and sleepy and when Mingyu has had time to actually think about what he should say.

But it’s too early for his brain-to-mouth filter to be working properly, either, so he just answers the first thing that comes to mind.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone else,” he says, a little more loudly than he means to. Minghao blinks, frowning, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Okay?” He says, tilting his head to the side, his easing from his face a little.

He should’ve expected that Minghao wouldn’t care. He sighs, his shoulders slumping low.

“I just, um, I don’t like casual relationships,” he says, floundering in his attempts to say even one thing that makes sense.

“You don’t like this?” Minghao asks, barking out what could almost be a laugh. “Aren’t no strings attached relationships the fratboy gold standard?”

Minghao’s voice doesn’t sound the same as it usually does when he’s teasing Mingyu. Typically, even when he’s needling Mingyu with sarcasm, there’s a humor to it, a friendliness that he never quite masks.

This is something else. There’s a hum of tension in Minghao’s posture and Mingyu can’t explain to himself why.

“I don’t like it,” Mingyu repeats, sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest, staring directly at Minghao now. “I get attached to people and it ends up making me miserable.”

“You want us to stop.” He’s not asking.

“I’m attached to you,” Mingyu says. He’s not sure what he’s hoping to accomplish in admitting it. It would be easier just to say yes and leave— nurse his wounds on his own.

But, in for a penny in for a pound. Mingyu keeps talking anyway. “I don’t wanna be seeing anyone else and if you hate dating or whatever you can just say so but I’m not good at this. I like you… I want there to be strings. I wanna meet your friends and go watch your dance events and hold your hand after class.”

Minghao stares at him. He opens his mouth, then closes it, his eyes dropping to his lap.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, heaving himself up with a little groan, bending over to dig his jeans off of the floor.

“Fine,” Minghao says, his tone almost like he’s accepting a dare.

“What?” Mingyu asks, turning around with one leg in his jeans, trying to line the other one up and make sense of the look on Minghao’s face at the same time. He has his chin tilted up, a little frown pulling down the corners of his mouth, but there’s a bright sparkle in his eyes.

“Fine,” Minghao repeats, and even though he doesn’t turn his eyes away, Mingyu can see the nervous fidgeting of his fingers. “We can have strings.”

Mingyu nearly falls flat on his face, missing the leg of his pants and stumbling forward, barely catching himself on the edge of the bed. In addition to making himself look stupid, he ends up nearly nose-to-nose with Minghao.

“Really?” He asks, trying not to feed the flickering little hope in his chest only to be disappointed.

“Yeah,” Minghao says, sounding like he’s almost surprised by it himself. “You can meet my friends and hold my hand.”

“And tell people you’re my boyfriend?” Mingyu asks, a wide smile starting on his face before he can stop it.

“Sure,” Minghao says, rolling his eyes. “I don't hate dating if it’s you, I guess.”

In spite of his words, Minghao is smiling back just as brilliantly, stroking his fingers through Mingyu’s hair and pulling him in to kiss him, long and slow.

Mingyu abandons the task of putting on his pants, letting Minghao pull him back into the bed.

“That makes me your boyfriend too,” he says, hushed and excited after Minghao has kissed his lips swollen all over again.

Minghao laughs, his shoulders shaking, one hand resting at the back of Mingyu’s head. “I know how dating works.”

“I wanna hear you say it,” Mingyu says, winding his arms around Minghao’s waist, happy to push his luck a little bit. “Say ‘Kim Mingyu is my boyfriend.’”

“Oh my god,” Minghao says, shaking his head. “I regret this already.”

Mingyu sticks his lower lip out and it takes all of ten seconds for Minghao to relent.

“Kim Mingyu is my boyfriend,” he says, heaving a dramatic sigh when the words leave his mouth. Mingyu giggles, unable to help himself, flushing pink and pleased.

“I thought you’d just want me to call you a good boy again,” Minghao says after a moment.

Mingyu hides his red face against Minghao’s collarbone and groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took me over a month but in my defense, I ran outta dick energy and had a really hard time making progress. Also it's over 17,000 words and at least 13,000 of that is probably porn.
> 
> If you read this then I love you.
> 
> @97lesbian on twt.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [knew you wouldn't fold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501741) by [movement (earthshaker)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthshaker/pseuds/movement)




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